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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595622">And Care For</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/L8201/pseuds/L8201'>L8201</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Boy (2016 Bell)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:02:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>94,794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/L8201/pseuds/L8201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sad doll-man ends the story with no one ever showing him any compassion? Unacceptable, time to rectify.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brahms Heelshire/Original Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Original Female Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’ve never written anything before so I know this won’t be good at all but sometimes when you’re hyper fixated on something so niche you gotta just crack your knuckles and get to work yourself.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well Miss, we’ve arrived.”</p><p>I woke with a start. “Huh? Oh! Thank you sir.” I must’ve fallen asleep on the drive. I guess the exhaustion of my last hectic week finally got to me. Ugh, I feel so groggy. Just how long was I napping for? We must be way out in the countryside.</p><p>Although, I was secretly glad at how remote this looked, ‘the harder to track me down’ I think grimly to myself. I take a quick 360 turn after exiting the cab to see an old gate, thick surrounding of trees and lastly the house. Huge freakin’ house.</p><p>“Wow.” I say, not even meaning to speak aloud. It was incredible though, albeit a tad spooky looking. Maybe all rich English people had these castle style mansions.</p><p>“Yes, quite a site to behold Miss. Here are your bags then.”</p><p>“Let me pay you-”</p><p>“No need, all taken care of by the Heelshires. Good day then Miss.” I should have offered to tip him, wealthy people weren’t the best tippers and I knew that all too well but he was already in a big rush to leave it seemed. “Alright then,” I waved as I took my bags in hand and headed on up.</p><p>As I’m walking up the steps I see one of the only windows with an actual curtain, and not just boards, shift slightly. Strange, I was told I’d have to wait for the owners arrival and to just let myself in.</p><p>I still didn’t bother to knock as I entered the huge door and set down my things. I yell out a greeting just in case somebody is home after all. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire?”</p><p>I kick off my boots and set them by the door way, not wanting to track anything in. Is there really no one here? I was still running on almost no sleep, maybe I didn’t see anyone in the window after all.</p><p>‘Oh well!’ I think to myself. Might as well make myself at home and explore a tad first without anyone watching over me as I do it.</p><p> </p><p>-——</p><p> </p><p>I tip toed as quickly as I could to keep up with her while still staying silent- ‘She’s so beautiful’ I thought to myself with a groan. Short, very short. Maybe 5’3? With pretty red hair that had waves in it and big blue eyes. She looked to be in her early 20’s.</p><p>‘I wonder what she’ll be like. Will she like me? Will she like the doll? Everyone seemed to’ I begrudgingly thought of my parents. Guess it’s easy to be liked when your face is perfect porcelain and not deformed. Still, nothing to be worried about so soon anyways, I’m getting ahead of myself.</p><p>The girl was walking through my old bedroom now touching things as she went along, curious about all the toys she encountered with a fondness in her expression. Did she like kids? She looked happy at least- thinking she’ll be caring for a child. Something in her face had a subtle look of sadness though, hm. Still, she must have a better nurturing instinct than any of the ones before her. ‘Oh please let her be as sweet as she looked!’</p><p>My thought was interrupted when Malcolm, the annoying delivery man snuck up to the door’s threshold to startle her. “Ugh.” I let out an audible groan, not even meaning to but Malcolm’s immediately delving into his flirting routine had evidently canceled the noise. ‘At least he was good for something for once.’</p><p>I quickly left their conversation feeling a bit dejected, I didn’t want to hear her play along with him in any way. He’s just so charismatic, isn’t he? For years I’d listened in to conversations between all the people in my life and that insufferable man. My mother, my father, every bloody nanny to ever enter this house and now he finally had someone beautiful like her to lay his act on, I should’ve guessed this. Even hearing her laugh at something he said as I stalked away felt like a spike to the heart, just knowing it was the first time I’d heard it, beautiful like music, and it was for him.</p><p>Oh well, Mummy and Daddy will be interrupting them any minute now anyways and I wanted to go sneak to my best vantage point now before I had to do it quietly. All the better to hear her later, and most importantly see her reaction to what is to be her new lifestyle here. God! I can’t wait to learn her name, no one had bothered to even tell me more than that a new nanny would come. My parents had always let me have a small say in if a new nanny seemed a good fit at the end of their line of questioning, because they knew how badly it ended if they didn’t listen to my say on who is to stay here with me. Frankly though, I didn’t see how I’d say no to her. ‘So so beautiful.’ I thought again, sighing, then swiftly went to go and steal her shoes. She won’t be leaving anyways, and thus won’t need them.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>As I was chatting with the new grocery man who was quite honestly, laying it on impressively thick, I heard 2 new sets of footsteps approach.</p><p>“You must be our new addition,” the woman spoke as she gingerly held her hand out for introductions, as if it was an honor for her to let me touch her hand. ‘Oh great,’ I thought almost groaning. This must be the lady of the house and despite Malcolm’s description of the Heelshire’s being ‘good generous folk’ she had a hoity air to her already. Being old-money was so easy to spot I almost laughed.</p><p>“Hi Mrs. Heelshire, it’s so nice to meet you!” Giving her hand a shake back I nervously went over in my head one more time the advantages and disadvantages of telling these people my real name. Could he really find me all the way out in the middle of nowhere England?</p><p>“I’m Anna.” That much was true, didn’t need to decide about the last name right away.</p><p>“So nice to meet you, Anna.” A man emerged behind the doorway who was sporting a warmer look on his face than his wife had decided to for our first meeting.</p><p>“Thanks so much for having me here sir, your home is lovely by the way Mrs. Heelshire!”</p><p>“Yes well, let us go ahead on with the tour then.” I didn’t miss the look she gave as she peered down to see me without any shoes on, I thought it was polite to not wear shoes in other’s homes. Sheesh. She didn’t say anything though as they led me up the stairs and to the second story, up to meet their son I presumed. Probably in his own room, where an 8 year old would feel most comfortable meeting a stranger.</p><p>As we walked past though I noticed that my boots were not in fact where I left them, right by the front door. Who would bother moving them? ‘Oh god,’ a terrible thought entered my mind before I could stop it. ‘I hope the grocery boy doesn’t have a foot fetish and HE took them.’ What other motive was there to steal shoes? I hate to think so cynically but...</p><p>“Ah, Here we are then. Brahms, this is Anna. She’ll be your new nanny from here on out.” The child was sitting on the chair, partially hidden behind his parents out of shyness probably. I went to lean to the side to wave hello and see...</p><p>“H..hello Brahms.” My throat catches a bit but I manage to speak. “It’s so nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand and shake the cold porcelain fingers in front of me. As I’m crouched down I fix my expression to look perfectly average.</p><p>For once in my life I thank my piece of shit ex fiancé for something, had he not been so immensely abusive to me for so long that I had to learn how to pick up on every little nuisance in every situation I’m in then I might have not seen the complete morose seriousness of the Heelshires as they introduced this doll as their supposed 8 year old son. Something very wacky was going on here and I’m the only one not in on it as it seems.</p><p>“I see you’ve met the little man!” Malcolm enters the bedroom and says his own hello to Brahms the doll. We’re all playing along then, it seems. “Please take good care of Anna here Brahms, she came a long way to meet you.” Malcolm got up and gave me a reassuring smile before we were both ushered out of the room for his parents to apparently ‘confer’ with him about if I was a suitable match. ‘Good luck to them getting anything out of him’ I thought sarcastically.</p><p>“What the hell was that?” I turned on Malcolm accusingly. We were talking for 10 whole minutes before the Heelshire’s came home and he couldn’t have mentioned something that fucking important? We even got to a lull in conversation at one point and I remarked about the weather, that bastard!</p><p>“Im sorry okay, I’m sorry-” He held up his hands in surrender and let out a small chuckle. “I didn’t mean to blind side you but it was just too good, I can’t believe how well you reacted though.”</p><p>“It doesn’t take a genius to deduce what’s really going on here.” I whispered.</p><p>Yes, the more I think- this is clearly something so crazy that the only culprit of it all could be grief. I saw the family portrait when I was walking around earlier and there was a real child in it with them, in his parent’s embrace. His parents who looked much younger in the painting. It was clear they did have a son at one point, who had probably passed away. And probably some time ago too, and this was just the sad result of that. I flinched internally, remembering the sound my mom had made when she was told by the doctors that my little brother was dead, and what she became after. Losing a child can be the catalyst to all sorts of insane reactions.</p><p>I was brought out of my reverie by the bedroom door opening. Mrs. Heelshire gave Malcolm a look that he knew to be his dismissal. “Good bye everyone.” ‘Good luck’ he mouthed to me with a wink as he backed away.</p><p>“Well Miss- uh, did I get your last name dear?”</p><p>“Oh! No Mam, it’s Devorough.” No it’s not, but she didn’t need to know that. Just one of the many reasons this job was perfect for me, it paid in cash. No real name needed.</p><p>“Yes, Miss Devorough. It appears our son has already taken quite a liking to you. He’s chosen to have you on.”</p><p>“That’s great! Thank you mam. I won’t let you down, I promise.” She gave me a sad look and then, most surprising of all, she embraced me in a hug. Huh, she must just be grateful that I’m so good with weird. Well with the pay I’m getting, it can get as weird as they want. ‘I’ve put up with a lot worse than this.’ I thought darkly to myself.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>It took me all of 5 seconds talking with my parents hurriedly as they had me peek out of one of the trap doors. “Yes, yes! I want her mother. She’s the one. Please let her stay here, I’ll be good. I promise I won’t ever hurt her.”</p><p>My mother looked tired as she spoke “yes dear, of course you won’t. Because this time is different. There will be no more after her, do you understand what I’m telling you Brahms?”</p><p>No, I didn’t understand at all. But still, I nod my head. Whatever mother meant, it didn’t matter. I’ll make it work with her no matter what! None of them have ever looked at the doll before and not laughed or twisted their face in a sneer the first time they saw him. She was different, I was right. She was... accepting.</p><p>“Don’t worry Mother, I’ll never ever do anything that will make it so she goes. I swear.”</p><p>My parents went out to tell her the good news, Anna that is. Pretty girl pretty name. As I look out from the hole in the hallway wall, I see my mother actually hug her and once again felt confused. They certainly were treating this different from previous cases, what did it mean? Could they see as well what I saw in her? That she was kind enough to take all of this and take it well. ‘She might even take the rules seriously’ I thought with a glimmer of hope.</p><p>The first week is always so hard for me, I have to have food stocked up each time before a new nanny starts on because they’re usually so lax in the beginning that I’m not fed until I scare them into following the rules. Will she be different in this way as well? I feel light headed with happiness at the possibilities of the coming days. For the first time in years, I feel my mask lift up ever so slightly because I’m smiling so big.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘I feel like a zombie.’ I groaned, finally turning in for the night in my new room. My muscles were so stiff. From the plane ride to the long day of trailing after Mrs. Heelshire to learn all she wanted me to know about Brahms and the house. She had been merciless, I grimaced. If I didn’t get something exactly right then we would only do it over and over again until I finally did. ‘She certainly doesn’t settle for less than perfection, does she?’ I thought to myself.</p><p>I decide to start up the shower at it’s hottest setting and sit while the steam filled the room and began to make me lightheaded. As I hop in and start to massage the stiffness from my body I let my mind wander. It had been a bit of a whirlwind after all was said and done and I’d been given my new strange job’s set of even stranger rules.</p><p>My first instinct about this puzzling situation seemed to be all but confirmed by an earlier conversation with Mr. Heelshire. He had walked with me on the grounds for awhile and talked with me openly and even admitted that he could understand my confusion of the job they were now tasking me with. It made me feel a tad better, just the fact that he acknowledged the absurdity of the whole thing.</p><p>As our little stroll came to a close I saw where he had led us, to his son- the real Brahms’ grave. I shuddered as I read the headstone and saw that he had been dead for decades.</p><p>Even odder than keeping the doll itself though, I learned today that the purpose for hiring me was to have me basically play-act throughout the day as if the doll was still a real living child. Feeding him, clothing him, and even kissing him nightly...</p><p>I sighed sadly as I thought to myself how the world would be a better place if people with trauma would just freaking go to therapy. It’s hard work, but people need to understand that sometimes it’s necessary to be able to heal. Would the Heelshires be so entrenched in this sad way of living for the past few decades if they had just gotten help? ‘Would my mother?’ I flinched. They let the grief of the loss of a child consume any and all chance of happiness in their lives. That much I could certainly see, the Heelshires were unbearably depressed. That’s another small reason I agreed to this job, if I can relieve a little bit of their pain then I will.</p><p>Part of me wanted to FaceTime my own therapist over this whole mess right this second. If anything required an emergency session, it was this madness. I know that she might be able to give me some much needed insight right about now, and the time difference actually made it reasonable to call her at this hour. But I stop myself, ‘I can wait until my actual appointment time, I’m not going to bother her just so I can talk through my feelings’ I grumble.</p><p>I was laying down now in the room I’ve been given as my own, trying desperately to turn my brain off and get some much overdue rest. Turns out, I’ll need to be alert in the morning to send the Heelshires off on their impromptu vacation. A little soon if you ask me, they don’t even really know me but they’re in a big hurry to leave their house in my care. But I can tell by the way they spoke that they’re desperate to be leaving, so.</p><p>I jumped out of the shower feeling a little better and put on a comfy t-shirt and some underwear. I thought of the sleeping pills I’d been prescribed that were just a few feet away in the medicine cabinet I’d unpacked them in and my hand twitched. ‘No, no.’ I huffed, quickly looking for something that would take my mind away from that before I could linger on it for too long.</p><p>The whole day was now washing over me and I couldn’t help but think of something. The rules were what stayed at the forefront of my mind, and Malcom had said something in passing earlier that I can’t get out of my head...</p><p>‘There were apparently many other nannies here before me, that were simply just let go, How?’ I thought. What could have possibly put them in the position to be fired after already being accepted on? ‘It’s not like Brahms didn’t like them.’ I thought, chuckling quietly to myself. The more I ruminated on this, the more an unnerving thought started to churn in my brain.</p><p>Cameras. They must have hidden cameras in the house that made it so they could know that someone was being lax with their unnecessary rules, plenty of people had nanny-cams these days. Was I just being paranoid though? It seemed a tad far fetched for them to bother with.</p><p>Well, either way, I can’t chance them catching me slacking off. I need this job. I needed the money sure, but more importantly than that, I needed to be gone. I’d bought my plane ticket from New York to England, which James could sure enough track. But after I left the airport, I was untraceable. The taxi that took me here was paid for in cash and I haven’t used my card since. I didn’t even give anyone in my life this address. The few people who even knew where I’d run off to, I could trust. For the first time in 6 years, I was safe from him. And as long as I don’t mess this job up, I’ll be able to stay safe from him.</p><p>A tear started to roll down my cheek as exhaustion finally pulled me under into darkness.</p><p> </p><p>-––</p><p> </p><p>I’m leaning my head against a wooden post on the inside of wall, my hair damp from sweat and curling onto my forehead. I forgot how hot it can get in this dark cramped space if I stay too long, but I still can’t leave from here, even though Anna’s long asleep by now.</p><p>I’ve not been back to my room this whole day, I can’t seem to tear myself away from observing her every single second I’m able. She’s laying on her stomach with her head facing where I can see her and she’s taken every pillow on the bed to straddle underneath her body in a tight grasp. I sigh forlornly. I sleep the same exact way, hugging a pillow so close to me that I can fall asleep imagining I’m not laying in my bed alone. Is that why she does it? Is she lonely, too? ‘Well, she doesn’t have to be anymore,’ I think with relief. Neither do I.</p><p>I slowly move my hands along the inside of the wall until I feel the groove that I know to be the right panel to move. Carefully I walk out of my hiding and into the cool air of the open room. I take the covers that she managed to shuffle completely off her legs, and place it gently back over her. Her breathing has slowed for long enough now that I know her to be in a deep sleep, probably not waking unless I make any sort of noise. I can be quiet. ‘What did I come out here for?’ Just to be nearer, if I’m honest with myself.</p><p>I get low down to the floor and slide underneath the side of the bed she’s on, laying directly beneath her sleeping form. One of her arms is hanging half way off the side, I slowly raise one of my own hands to lightly touch her sensitive fingertips. I trace along her skin, and begin playing with her fingers in my own. Her hand is so small. She doesn’t stir at all, even though it must tickle a little. ‘She must be exhausted from the long plane trip’ I think.</p><p>I hesitate a moment before lifting my arm up and around to where her t-shirt has slipped up, exposing the small of her back. I test my feather-light touch, rubbing circles on her back. I had seen earlier how she was trying to massage her own sore muscles and had winced in pain, poor thing. My mother worked her too hard today.</p><p>She lets out a small breathy noise and I freeze in place, too afraid to even snatch my hand back, but nothing happens. Maybe it did feel good to her? Even in her unconscious state. I smile and continue to rub lightly up and down on her back, contentedly. Her skin is unbearably soft and as she lets out another small sigh in her sleep, the thought of her enjoying my touch makes me flush with a heat I’ve never felt so strongly before.</p><p>‘I should leave. Now.’ I hesitantly remove my hand from her warm skin. As I’m readying to maneuver myself quietly out from under the bed my foot bumps with something solid. I pull it up to me and feel it’s hard rectangular surface. ‘A book?’ I question. How did this end up under here? Well, I’ll take it with me anyways. I’ve ready every book in this damn house at least 3 times over by now, maybe it will be something new and interesting. I slip away from the room just as silently as I entered, taking one last look upon her face.</p><p>As I return to my room I toss the book off to the side and slump back onto my bed with a frustrated groan. ‘Why did I do that? Get so close to her like that,’ I wonder. I really shouldn’t have.</p><p>As I lay back, something that happened earlier returns to my mind in vivid detail. The little appreciative noise she made in her sleep when she must have liked the feel of my touch was so endearing. I repeat it on a loop in my head as I slowly lower my hand and unzip my pants, feeling the same feverish heat I felt earlier return with force and spread throughout my whole body as I work myself. I start to suck on my own 2 fingers as I imagine the hot, wet feeling to be the inside of her instead of my own mouth. Wondering what other noises of pleasure I could elicit from her pretty little mouth, I shudder. The thought sends me over the edge as my breathing gets frantic and I start to shake. I grip my sheets and finally stutter out her name and finish with a moan. I lay back feeling guilty and wrong as I wait for my heartbeat to return to a normal pace. </p><p>Feeling temporarily satiated but still restless and unable to sleep, I look to my nightstand to see what the lost book that I’d discovered was named. I take it in my hands, ‘no name on the cover’ I think, that’s strange. But when I open it and see the delicate yet amusingly sloppy handwriting instead of type I realize just exactly what I’ve stumbled upon. I read on a little further just to be certain and sure enough... ‘Ha!’ I let out a crazed laugh as I clutch it tightly to my chest. ‘Something new and interesting indeed’ I think, with glee. It seems I’ve accidentally gained possession of her diary.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I woke feeling better, body and mind refreshed and ready for the day ahead. I didn’t realize until now just how much I’d been needing some good rest. I checked my phone and saw it was 6:04 AM, the Heelshires will be leaving pretty soon. I should go get Brahms up and make everyone some breakfast. I wanted to prove to them that I was capable of adhering to the set schedule of rules so they could rest easy and have some peace of mind on their trip. I wasn’t sure if Mrs. Heelshire truly thought that the doll was still her son or if she knew deep down he was gone, but I didn’t want her to worry. ‘Well,’ I thought. ‘Time to show them that they didn’t make a mistake hiring me, that I am the right person for this job.’</p><p>I followed every rule to the T and even managed to make a big breakfast before the Heelshires woke. When they finally entered the kitchen Brahms and I were seated with a drink in front of each of us, waiting for them. I greeted them cheerily and started dishing out the warm food, on 4 plates. Mrs. Heelshire saw the meal in front of Brahms and looked like she was pleased. When we were finished eating, I took the full plate and placed it wrapped in the freezer like I was supposed to. </p><p>I picked Brahms up, resting him on my hip and walked with them to the door. As Mr. Heelshire took the bags to the car, Mrs. Heelshire and I were left alone together on the front steps.</p><p>“Say bye to your Mommy Brahms, she’ll be gone for a little while and it will be just you and me.” My words seemed to somehow make her sad. She frowned and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then pulled away to look at me.</p><p>Her eyes were looking over my face with such intensity, then she pulled me in for another hug. I was just as shocked as the first time. She whispered in my ear as if no one else should hear what she was about to say. “I’m so sorry, dear.” She cupped my cheek with tenderness and then turned away.</p><p>My face reflected the confusion I felt, as they drove down the driveway and disappeared from my sight. ‘What could that have meant?’ My heart sunk, not at the words but at the regretful look she left me with.</p><p>I’d been spending the rest of the day following the schedule with the doll, taking him everywhere with me and even speaking to him sometimes. “Hm, what’s something that we haven’t done yet on the list Brahmsy?”</p><p>I looked over at the big piano sitting in the middle of the room. ‘It’s beautiful’ I thought, with a sigh. I loved music when I was growing up, even composing some songs in my late teens. It was the only happiness I had in life after Brandon died and I was broken, mentally and physically. While I couldn’t play while my body mended, I spent many months after the accident seeking solace through composing musical pieces. It was the only thing that healed me. </p><p>I haven’t played in so long, though. I felt such a mental barrier up between me and the thing that once brought me such joy while I was suffering in my last relationship. I played some of my songs for James once and when I’d ask if he liked them he only criticized me, asking if my injuries from the accident had impeded my playing much. The thought took root in me and spread, until I was too insecure to play in front of anyone again. Then after a while, too insecure to even play at all. </p><p>He wanted my only joy in life to be him, that’s why he tore me down and said those things. That’s what my therapist told me, later. I believed her in part, but I secretly wondered if his comment hit so close to home because it was partly true. I never fully regained the movement I previously had in 2 of my fingers and my ability to play was truly affected.</p><p>‘Why should I care?’ I suddenly felt such anger. Even if I wasn’t as talented as before, I could still take pleasure in the act of playing. How dare he take that away from me? If I didn’t take it back on my own, he would keep that joy from me forever. He’s taken enough from me. </p><p>I sat down at the piano and stretched my fingers. The pinky and ring finger on my left hand, feeling extra stiff. I hovered my hands over the keys for what felt like a long time, and thought about how much my brother had loved to hear me play. So, I started. And I played the song that’d I’d written for him, hoping that wherever he was he could hear the guilt threaded through the song and forgive me somehow.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I’d excitedly opened to the first page of Anna’s diary, not caring how late it was. Just hoping to soak up as much knowledge about her as I could possibly get my hands on, but I was not at all prepared for what I’d began to read. It looks like it was dated about 2 years ago now.</p><p> </p><p>‘Well, Rebecca told me that writing my feelings down in a diary might help me sort through them and even though I’m not good at expressing my feelings, I guess I have to try, right? So here goes. I told her I didn’t know where to began but she assured me that I certainly did, and I suppose she was right as usual. No better place to start than on the worst day of my life. So I’ll try to remember as much as I can of what happened and why it continues to effect everything in my life to this day. The guilt that pits at the bottom of my stomach every second I think of him, the guilt I deserve to feel. I do feel responsible for Brandon dying. I wasn’t the only person who had linked blame to me either. I remember what my mother first said to me after my car accident and what she continues to say, to this day. I was freshly 16 and had just gotten my license. Brandon all of a sudden begged me to take him to the Halloween costume store. I was too nervous driving around still, and initially said no. But he was relentless, I guess he wanted to get the perfect costume for some contest his 5th grade class was having. I finally gave in, I spoiled him so much he knew I couldn’t say no to him. I thought it would just be a quick drive, about 10 minutes if I took the highway. So we left. Everything was fine on the drive there, we got to the store and he went in and picked up some ghoulish looking thing, and a makeup set with a bunch of colors he was excited for. He looked so adorable and happy, I was proud of myself for taking him out and driving us both there. I felt grown up and responsible. I ruffled his hair and called him a little monster but he only laughed and smiled with his whole face. The drive back was when it started to rain, I was getting nervous. I’d never driven in the rain before. I asked him if we could turn off the radio and he could be quit so I could concentrate better. He complied, he saw my mood change and reached up to pat my arm to comfort me. He told me it would be okay, and that we were almost home. That’s when I lost control of the car, it hurts to remember much after that but I remember some. We skidded into the median and it felt like time was going in slow motion. I didn’t have any control over the wheel at all anymore, I just stretched out my arm to reach back behind me to hold his hand, but I don’t remember ever feeling his fingers reach mine. That’s when, mercifully, everything in my vision went black. I came to in the ambulance, on the way to the hospital with paramedics working over me. I didn’t feel any pain but when I looked down, I felt sick at what I saw. My arm was broken so badly, it was bent in an odd angle along with my fingers being mangled. There was blood all over my clothes and skin, but I couldn’t see where I was bleeding from. I felt my head spinning and felt so unstable, like I could barely speak but I forced the words out of my mouth asking after my brother. They looked at each other, but didn’t answer me. They just kept working away on me, checking me for more injuries. I passed back out again. When I woke up I was in a hospital bed, alone with my arm wrapped up. I just wanted my mom, I didn’t understand why she wasn’t with me. It was dark outside and she should've gotten there by then. I tried to press the button that would bring someone to me so I could get some answers. When all was said and done, the only injury I’d gotten was the broken arm and fingers after all. Deep down, I knew right then. All that blood that was on my clothes had to have been from somewhere, so much blood. I couldn’t accept it though. I asked the nurse, she evaded every question I threw at her about Brandon and I remember feeling myself get more and more panicked. I got out of the bed then and quickly started down the halls, looking for where he might be. The ICU was where I ended up finally seeing her, my mom stood out in the hall with her face red and her nails digging in her arms. She looked so crazed. I ran towards her and clutched at her, asking where Brandon was but she wouldn’t speak. She wouldn’t even look at me. I just took a seat and decided to wait with her. The clock passed by 2 hours and she just stood there, frozen the whole time. I don’t remember a single thought that passed through my head in those 2 hours, I just stared at her back. Like I was asleep, but still waking. The doctor walking out of the surgery room pulled my attention back to reality. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and my legs wouldn’t work to move and walk over to them. I saw him take my mother’s hands in his though and heard her scream and crumple to the ground. And I knew. I felt like I was floating above my body and could barely hear or see anything, but I heard one thing. My mother saying the words ‘your fault’ to me, over and over again. She was right though, it is my fault. And no amount of therapy or journaling will ever change that.’</p><p> </p><p>I put the diary down with shaking hands and stared at nothing. I didn’t expect to find something so devastating in the very first page of Anna’s journal. Did she really believe it was her fault her brother died?</p><p>The early morning light started to leak through what small cracks to the outside world my bedroom had. ‘I need to sleep.’ I thought, still feeling sick from what I just read. As I lay my head on my pillow I already feel myself drifting. I feel a weight on my chest as I remember how she had looked at the little boy things in my childhood bedroom yesterday, with longing and sadness.</p><p>When I wake the next day, it’s already well into the afternoon, almost evening. ‘I thought mother and father would have wanted to say goodbye to me, the real me.’ Since they were going on holiday for the first time in so long and I wouldn’t see them for awhile, a part of me had wished that they might actually come down here for once and say a proper goodbye to me. I guess not. </p><p>I stretched and yawned, then went on to get dressed to go see what Anna was up to. ‘Will she follow the rules?’ I wonder nervously, already feeling starved. When I climbed up to go look around for where she’s at I end up hearing her before I see her. ‘She must be at the piano then,’ I think. She was playing the most beautiful music. I drifted closer, not as careful as I’d normally be knowing that the loud piano made my noises obsolete currently. I peaked out and finally saw her, seated at the instrument that she was playing so beautifully. I took a closer look and saw now that tears streamed down her face as the end of the song rang out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If someone ever read my diary I’d beat their ass 😌</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in my life, I felt a bit strange for observing too private of a moment. Seeing her tears, especially after reading what I just had. The playing was too beautiful to go unheard though, I decided. Once Anna was finished with her song, she dried her tears then held the doll to her chest, closing her eyes and squeezing him in for a hug. I wanted to hear her play more so badly, but she seemed to be done for now. Then, as if she hadn’t been upset at all, she got up and continued on with her tasks.</p><p>I watched over her as she flitted around, humming to herself while cleaning. Playing music on her speakers I’d never heard before while she cooked and sang along. It made me feel calm just to watch her do menial things. </p><p>The rest of our day passed by quickly and night came as she checked off the last item and pecked the doll goodnight on the forehead. I listened in as she made up a bed time story to tell, seemingly on the spot. I could tell because her brows would furrow while she thought of what to say next, I chuckled quietly at her imagination.</p><p>She once again surpassed my hopes by following all the rules to an almost paranoid degree, it made me nervous to be truthful. The way she acted as if she knew she was being observed, even though my parents had left hours ago now. Did I have her subconsciously on edge by making some sort of noise with my footsteps? Even though I was well over 6 feet and too big to navigate through the passages in the walls easily, I knew I was light on my feet. I’d had years of practice and now moved almost completely silently, even when I was alone and didn’t have to, it was second nature by now. She couldn’t have heard me. So what was putting her on edge?</p><p>No matter, I could barely complain about anything right now, I was feeling so happy with how well this situation was turning out. For once, things seemed to be going my way for now. I tiptoed down to the kitchen to retrieve the food she’d left for me, and then continued on back to my room. I was eager to resume reading her journal, and she was busy in the shower now anyways. I sat down on my chair and opened up to the next page where I’d left off.</p><p> </p><p>‘The year after Brandon passed away is a big blur to me. I stopped going to school and started taking it online. Anytime my friends tried to reach out to me I told them I didn’t want to talk. My arm took its time healing and I took advantage of the pain pills I was prescribed to deal with the process. And it got even worse, after my surgery to begin giving me back some usage I lost from my fingers. I wasn’t dealing with the trauma very well either and couldn’t handle being in even the shortest of car rides. It induced some of the most gut wrenching panic attacks I’d ever felt, so they prescribed me even more pills for anxiety. Which I took full advantage of, leaving me in a daze most of the time. When all was said and done, I can hardly recall a thing from the whole year. My mother didn’t speak to me anymore, I remembered that. She’d come home from work and not ask me about my day anymore. She didn’t say good morning to me, or tell me goodnight. When I would start to sob on the days where my pain was at its worst, she would only look at me, before walking out of the room. I would scream and cry and reach out for her, pathetic and needing my mom to just hold me, but she wouldn’t. We only lived together, I was alone. A ghost in my own house, constantly reminded by every glance she shot my way that she wished I had been the one to die, not him. Some days I felt so void of all things that make a human being human, that I even wondered if I had died that day, and I really <em>was </em>a ghost. Being punished for killing him by having no one who saw me anymore.’</p><p> </p><p>I slammed the pages shut and began to pace around the room, my heart pounding in my ears. It reminded me too much of those first few years of torture I endured after my 8th birthday. When I would cry all through the night for mum and dad and they wouldn’t come for me, even though I knew very well they could hear. Even the thought of feeling like maybe I had died, and that’s why no one ever came when I called.</p><p>I didn’t want to be remembering this right now, it was too much. I flexed my fingers, trying desperately to distract myself from my own racing mind. I hadn’t thought about any of this in years, I pushed the thoughts away out of my head until my hands stilled and I stopped feeling so unstable. I couldn’t bare to read anymore, knowing we’ve shared some of the same dark thoughts pulled at my heart and made me wish to go to her. Now.</p><p>
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</p><p>-–—</p><p>
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</p><p>All in all it was a good first days work, my head was pounding and I was feeling a little overly sore again considering I didn’t do too much physical work, but I can’t complain. It actually felt kind of nice, having this whole big place to myself. ‘Myself and Brahms of course,’ I laughed. </p><p>I checked the clock and realized with a bit of panic that the time zone change made it so that my FaceTime appointment with my therapist was supposed to start in a few minutes. I hurriedly went to grab my phone and get comfortable on the bed while I collected my thoughts a little. ‘Should I tell her about the details of my job, or will she think I’m crazy for staying here?’ I thought, with a sigh. I know it’s weird, but I don’t think a psychologist would be fazed by much. </p><p>I jumped a little, my phone was ringing with a call. ‘Mrs. Thatcher’ I quickly answered. “Hello?” </p><p>“Hi Anna,” she greeted me with a warm smile, just as she always had. “How are you? I know that you’ve moved to a new place. I can only assume that you received that job offer you mentioned to me?” Yes, Rebecca Thatcher was one of the handful of people that I trusted the truth of my quick departure to. She’s been my therapist for 2 years now, she knows what I’ve been through and why I had to leave.</p><p>“Yeah, I did. About that...” I started.</p><p>“Is the child that’s been entrusted in your care giving you any trouble?” She asked with a fond look. I sighed, feeling so exasperated all of a sudden. ‘I should to tell her the truth, what is she here for after all?’</p><p>“That’s the thing Rebecca, there is no child. I mean, not like how I thought.” She looked confused and I chewed on my lip.</p><p>“Tell me, Anna.” I didn’t know how to begin. I went on and told her all that had happened leading up to now. When it was all out in the open, I did feel a little better. I was right, just talking aloud to someone about something can help you work through your own feelings about it.</p><p>As I look down at my screen, I realize she has a strained look on her face. “Well, what do you think about it all?” I ask her.</p><p>“It certainly makes a lot of sense that you of all people would stay on at this impossible job you’ve been given.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” I asked. Was she saying that as a compliment?</p><p>“Well,” she started. “You lost your own brother at a similar age that this little boy died at. A death with which you’ve taken on the sole responsibility for.” I cringed slightly, already knowing I was going to get clocked for that one. I sigh. </p><p>Yes, I did want to help the Heelshires knowing how hard their loss was from personal experience. But no matter what good I did here for them, it wouldn’t erase the fact that my little brother is gone. Rebecca tried to get through to me so many times about how I was only 16 and it wasn’t really my fault. That it’s not fair that I’ve taken on such a heavy burden just for one mistake Ive made, and that my brother would forgive me if he was here today.</p><p>‘But he’s not here.’ I remind myself. He’d never get to grow up, he would forever remain the little boy in my memory.</p><p>“If he were alive, he’d be the same exact age now that you were when the accident happened.” She broke through my reverie. “If he had lost control of a vehicle on his first time driving after getting his license and hurt somebody, what would you think of him? Would you tell him it was his fault?”</p><p>I stared blankly back at her through the screen. “If he had killed someone on accident but was still alive? It wouldn’t matter to me. As long as he was still here, everything would be okay.” I start to feel the prick of tears begin, as I struggle to try to explain my feelings. “It’s not about that for me as much anymore, whether I forgive myself or not. It’s about the fact that he’s not here. If I had killed someone else on the road that day...” god, it sounds so selfish and evil to say out loud.</p><p>“Go on” she urged me, no judgement in her eyes.</p><p>“If my car had killed someone else that day, a stranger, it would have been horrible... but I eventually would’ve found a way to move on, to live with it. It’s not about guilt anymore, it’s the fact that he’s not here. He doesn’t get to live a life, that’s what is too unbearable for me. That’s what I can’t forgive. The unfairness of it all, he was so good and so smart. If someone had to die that day then it should’ve been me.” My tears spill out onto my comforter as I finish speaking. </p><p>“But you aren’t dead, Anna. And one of these days you’ll have to finally stop living like you are.” I had nothing to say to that, she wasn’t wrong.</p><p>We went on another few minutes of talking about James and my family. She didn’t know if she should tell me or not but she ended up mentioning that he had been by her office to ask about my whereabouts. “He tried to pass it off as him being worried about you. He said that your mental health has been bad lately and that your lack of sleep and exhaustion from planning the wedding led to a fight with you 2 and you ran off and were now missing.” </p><p>I scoffed, ‘yeah I ran off alright, to get away from you.’ I thought, angry that he would try to paint me out to be some hysterical girl who only left him because she was overwhelmed from wedding planning. He knows exactly what really happened, and so does Rebecca. No point in him trying to get her on his side, he thinks he’s cleverer than her? That idiot.</p><p>She was the one who finally opened my eyes to what he was doing to me all these years. Since I was only 17 years old, still raw from trauma and vulnerable enough to latch on to any scrap of love being offered. I was a perfect target for him. He was 26, and knew exactly what he was doing. We hid the fact that we were dating for over a year, but I moved in with him quickly after turning 18. Anxious to be out of my house, and him knowing how naive I was about how the world worked. He had a great job and a lot of money, and I just wanted to feel taken care of for once in my life. But what I didn’t realize yet was being taken care of and being loved were two different things.</p><p>“I told him I hadn’t seen or heard from you, but he didn’t look phased. I’m sure he’s going to use other ways to try and find you. You aren’t using any of your shared credit cards, are you?” She asked, worry on her face.</p><p>“No no, everything’s fine. No trace of me being here, I didn’t even bother telling my employers my real last name. I’m being overly cautious, if anything.” She looked relatively placated.</p><p>We said our goodbyes and promised to talk again the same time next week, unless any problems should arise sooner. I felt so keyed up though, why? It’s not like I didn’t know he’d be looking for me.</p><p>I thought back to the last few weeks leading up to me finally leaving. He had proposed to me, in front of a huge crowd at a party he had thrown. We had talked before that, about how he had to get his anger issues in check or else I would leave him. He promised me he would go see a therapist and work on it, “for our future” he had said. Naturally, he never went anywhere and his outbursts of rage only grew more frightening. The littlest things would set him off, so I felt paralyzed into acting exactly as he’d want me to in all ways, for fear of the consequences if I didn’t.</p><p>He knew that I didn’t want to be proposed to by him, that things between us weren’t good at all. That’s why he did it in public like that, he knew that he needed an audience for me to say yes. And he was right, I was in complete shock and did end up saying yes. The room full of people cheered and he picked me up and swung me around in a kiss. I felt numb, ‘he did this on purpose.’ I realized ‘he wanted all these people to know I’d said yes to him so he could hold me to it.’ I thought in horror. That very night was when I decided I needed to leave. But how? </p><p>He made it so that I had no one in my life but him, and I needed help now more than ever. But who could I call? I thought of Eva, my best friend since we were both teenagers, who James was so unbearably jealous of that he made it his mission to separate us. It started so subtly that I didn’t even see it happening. He had made me believe that distancing myself from all my friends was my idea, not his. He planted seeds of doubt in my head about the people I was closest to. I didn’t fail to notice that the only people in attendance at our engagement party seemed to be his friends, his work colleagues, his family. </p><p>I called Eva a few days later from a burner phone I’d bought, knowing that James had put something on my own smart phone that let him see everything I said or did.</p><p>“Eva,” I began once she answered.</p><p>“Anna?” She asked, recognizing my voice immediately, and then she started to sob. “I haven’t heard from you in so long.” She let out. “I heard you got engaged to him, Anna please tell me it’s not true.” Eva was smart enough to realize way sooner that I did that James was a textbook manipulator, and was most likely the reason for my separation from everyone in my life. She begged me before we finally stopped talking to see reason and leave him, but I wasn’t ready then. I am now. </p><p>“I need to meet up with you, can I come to your place?” She agreed and I quickly headed over, knowing I didn’t have too much time before he noticed I was gone for longer than I said I’d be. I told him I was going out to look at dresses, he beamed at me and said he thought it was a great idea, thinking I’d finally thawed to the idea of actually marrying him. It was the one thing I could tell him where he wouldn’t come along with me, all I had was today to try and make all the preparations I needed.</p><p>Eva swung open her apartment door and her face crumpled when she saw me. “You look horrible.” She laughed. I started laughing too then and we both hugged tightly, crying and laughing.</p><p>“What the hell kind of thing is that to say to someone you haven’t seen in awhile?” I chided her. “Even if it’s true,” I mumbled.</p><p>We both sat on her couch and I poured out everything I’d been holding in for years. I told her how afraid I’d become of him. “Has he hit you?” She asked me, her balled fists almost shaking in rage now. I didn’t have to say anything though, she knew.</p><p>“It’s not just that. The controlling and possessiveness, it’s suffocating. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t go anywhere without him E, he’s absolutely insane. I had to say I was looking at wedding dresses today just to get a few hours away from him.”</p><p>She took my hand in hers to comfort me. She already knew why I had come today. “What do you need to be able to leave?” She asked.</p><p>“I need a job, I think, for starters. Something far far away. If I could be a nanny maybe I could have a live-in position. That would keep me hidden, for a little while at least.”</p><p>She got straight to work on her tablet, looking up different listings in far away states, some even out of the country. “Leave everything to me Anna, just be ready to leave in 1 week.”</p><p>I left soon after that, already fearing I’d been out too long. She made me promise to be very careful the next few days, so that he didn’t suspect I was planning to leave him.</p><p>The day finally came and I was nervous, but ready. She texted me a time to meet her at the airport on my burner number. James was at work, but he would be home soon. I packed what I could fit in a bag, and got in the taxi. I called him on my way there.</p><p>“Hi Anna banana.” He answered me after the first ring. “Is everything alright? You don’t normally call me at work.”</p><p>“I won’t be there when you get back.” I said.</p><p>“Are you going shopping? What time will you be ba- ”</p><p>“I’m not coming back.” I cut him off. I waited a couple seconds to let it sink in for him.</p><p>“No.” His voice changed from the one he used when he was pretending to be a normal, loving boyfriend, to the one I’d become most used to. “I’ll find you.” He starts, but I don’t let him finish.</p><p>“No, you won’t.” I say, before hanging up and tossing the phone in the trash at the airport. I was done hearing him threaten me.</p><p>When I met Eva at the gate she filled me in on all that had happened in the week that she’d been working on. “I found you a job as a nanny for a little boy in England. It pays in cash and they’ll send a driver to pick you up from the airport. I also got you a new phone, a good one. I put all the weird music you like on it and...” She started to cry now in earnest. “It’s not fair A, I just got you back. I hate him.” She says. It stabs me right through, my dear sweet Eva. Who waited, worrying over me for years. Knowing exactly why I wasn’t talking to her anymore, but not being able to do anything about it. And now that I was finally reunited with her I had to leave, to hide. </p><p>The bitterness of it all hit me then, and I swear in that moment I had so much rage in me that I could have killed James with my own hands. I grab her arms and look right in her big brown eyes. “I love you E, I love you more than anyone. You’re saving my life.” I clutch her to me and let my tears stream down my cheek.</p><p>“You’ll come back when you can, won’t you?” She choked. I didn’t have a good answer for her, I didn’t know myself how much time would have to pass before he would finally let me go. I hoped that one day I could live without fear of him. She kissed my cheek then sent me on my way.</p><p>Once I was all seated and waiting in the airplane I saw a letter she’d left for me, laying in the things she’d gotten for me. I read it and silently cried, it was all about her life during the time we’d been separated. She mentioned how much she missed me, how worried she had been. That she even crazily drove to my place one day and waited, just to get a glimpse of me and see if I looked okay. I laughed at that, but secretly felt warmed to the idea that even though I was feeling so alone at that time, I hadn’t really ever been. I was being watched over. She ended it by telling me that no matter how long it took for me to be able to come back, that I would always have a home with her.</p><p>I held it to my chest and breathed in. She did so much for me, she truly loved me and made sure I felt it. I can’t believe I’d been so brainwashed that I let him keep us apart. I let him convince me that no one but him should love me. He knew how much she cared about me, that’s why he tried to drive a wedge between us. ‘And I let him.’ I thought. How could I have been so stupid to let him rule my life for years...</p><p>I laid in my bed now, in the old house I called home for the time being and thought about all that I was being kept from, because of him. My whole life was in New York, I loved living there. The ever present pit of rage I felt for James grew and grew, until I was so angry I knew I couldn’t sleep like this. I stomped over to the medicine cabinet and took half of a sleeping pill from the bottle, gulping it down dry. Then headed back off to bed, hoping for a dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I tried to absorb all the information I’d overheard on the phone just now, with Anna and some older woman who seemed nice enough to her, at least. ‘Why did she lie about her last name?’ I wondered. I had more questions than answers after listening to that conversation, it was frustrating. Especially about the mans name I overheard them mention, who was looking for Anna. I hope whoever he was, he wouldn’t find her here. She definitely didn’t seem too keen on the fact that he was looking, her whole body tensed when the woman on the phone said his name. </p><p>I knew I’d probably find more context on some of the things they were speaking about if I just kept on reading in her diary, but I was still too shaken from before to continue on for now. I watched over her sleeping soundly, in a deeper sleep now than she had been the night before. I reached out to brush a strand of her hair out of her sleeping face, and noticed how warm she felt. Or maybe my hands were just cold, I better just leave her be.</p><p>I head back down to my own room to go to bed when I notice that there’s a letter with my name on it, sitting on my dresser where I’d been in too much of a rush to see it this morning. ‘Why would my parents bother leaving this if they wouldn’t even wake me to say goodbye?’ Well, whatever it said I wasn’t in the mood to read it right now. If they truly needed to tell me something important, they could have woken me. But they didn’t want to have to speak to me, to look at me. They’ve dealt with me as scarcely as they possibly could for years now, I’m sure they’re glad to be away from me for awhile. Well, I hope they enjoy themselves. I bitterly toss the letter into my desk, seeing the small key that was laying forgotten inside of my drawer.</p><p>I thought back on a conversation I had with my father, not but a week ago now. It was so rare that he spoke to me one on one, even rarer than my conversations with mother. It was late, and she was long asleep. He was drinking in his study, and tapped the walls to let me know he wanted me to join him. All the years of silence from him, I still yearned for some sort of fatherly affection like I did when I was a child. I eagerly joined him, awaiting whatever it could be that he finally wanted me for.</p><p>As I sat he poured himself another glass of brandy, he turned to gesture towards me if I wanted some. I shook my head, I hated things that tasted bad. I also didn’t particularly like how it felt to be drunk. The few times I had been it only made me feel talkative, but I didn’t have anyone to talk to so it did me no good. He finally sat, I didn’t know why it was so hard for him to even look at me. I was wearing my mask in front of him, It’s not like he was forced to see my face.</p><p>This night though, he’d actually taken it off me. “Son, I’d like to speak with you about something important, and I need to see your face as I do so. To make sure you follow me, understand?” I nodded, feeling nervous for whatever he was possibly about to say now. My mind went to all the worst possible places. ‘What if he and mother didn’t want me to live here anymore.’ I thought, wringing my hands. ‘What am I gonna do, live in the forest like a squirrel?!’</p><p>He broke me out of my anxious train of thought then, telling me that one day very soon, I needed to go into his desk drawer and look at what’s inside. He also said not to say anything about this to mother, and placed a key in my hands then folded them.</p><p>He was truly drunk, I noticed then. His face flush and eyes a tad unfocused. But, he got serious all of a sudden and took me by my shoulders, not used to having to look up at me now that I’d grown so much taller than him.</p><p>“I...” he started, then shook his head, never finishing whatever it was he was going to say. His hands slipped away from me and he turned, leaving the room not looking back. I was more frustrated after our conversation than anything else.</p><p>For years I’d imagined different scenarios in my head of my father finally acknowledging me, in any possible way. The tiniest part of me always hoped that one day he would apologize for treating me like I disgusted him, like I wasn’t his own child. Now that he finally gave me a moment of his precious time I saw what a sad, old man he had become. Babbling about keys and nonsense, saying nothing of substance to me. I was his son. What did I do to deserve his neglect for over 20 years?</p><p>I’d gone over it again and again in my head and decided that he must just not like me. I’d overheard him calling me ‘strange’ before, with Malcolm of all people and on my birthday, which stung. Although I knew he thought as much. But just because he didn’t like me, did he have to not even love me?</p><p>My gut twisted at the memory now, looking around in my room where I spent so much time alone. Always alone, even though they were both only a few feet away, they never reached out for me. I felt the long day pull me back until I was feeling ready to shut my mind off and just sleep, not having to think anymore.</p><p>I awoke in the early morning and quickly got ready for the day, noticing the time and that Anna would be awake by now and maybe she’d even play more music today. It felt abnormal still, waking up and feeling excited about my day instead of just dreading the coming monotony.</p><p>I hurried up through the walls, listening for any sign of what part of the house she could be in. I heard no noise at all though, I continued on through the whole first floor and still there was no sign of her. ‘Did she oversleep? How cute’ I thought. She was out quite good last night, she must’ve just not heard her alarm. I won’t disturb her, if she’s truly this tired. It won’t hurt to check on her though.</p><p>I go towards her room and see that I was right, she’s laying there peacefully. Her cheeks look so red, is she blushing in her sleep? She starts to stir, rolling over to stretch and groaning. She goes to get up off the bed then wobbles her way back into a sitting position. Strange. She tries another time now and heads straight to get a glass of water from the faucet and sees her reflection in the mirror. Something that she sees in her current state prompts her to raise a hand to her forehead, she groans again and heads to the medicine cabinet. She takes out a thermometer and whatever it reads, she doesn’t like what she sees.</p><p>‘She must be sick, that’s why she’s been so tired and sore lately.’ I sigh. I hope she doesn’t think she has to continue on with the rule list today. I don’t want her straining her already weak body, she’ll only make herself sicker. She climbs back into bed and falls asleep again within a few minutes. ‘Looks like I’m on my own today’ I think.</p><p>The next few days are nothing short of terrible, Anna’s fever only worsened and I began to feel helpless watching her. Unable to eat and becoming weaker by the day for it, struggling to even get up for a glass of water for herself. I watch over her anxiously, ‘this is torture’ I think to myself. Not being able to help her even though I’m right here, just on the other side of the wall.</p><p>On the third night, I looked in on her again and saw she was completely drenched in sweat and shaking from the cold without a blanket on her. ‘That’s it.’ I thought, her fever is so high that even if the worst case scenario happens and she wakes, she’ll only think I’m a hallucination. I go down to get a wash cloth and a bowl of water before returning to her side. Even though she must be in a lot of pain, she stays sleeping. Only letting out a few whimpers every now and then, but not moving much.</p><p>I sit on the side of her bed and pull the covers back over her shivering body. Although, when my fingers graze her arm all I feel is how burning hot her skin is. I dip the rag in the water and start to dab at her exposed skin, cooling down what areas I can. After a few minutes, her body stops shaking and her face relaxes a little bit. Her wet hair is sticking to her face and I gently brush it away from her forehead with my pinky. She grabs my wrist suddenly then, and I feel like I’ve been electrocuted. I look at her eyes but they remain closed, she’s still asleep thank god. Her hold on my wrist is firm though, I don’t risk trying to dislodge her. She takes my whole arm now and tucks it up closely against her body, snuggling me against her. The back of my cold hand presses up against her lips. ‘Does my cool skin feel good to you?’ I smirk.</p><p>We stay like that for quite awhile, I adjust myself to a slightly more comfortable position on the bed beside her. That’s when she slings her whole leg over my torso and reels me in, now hugging my entire body to her frame. ‘Is she using me as a human body pillow?’ I wonder, blushing so deep my face must almost be as hot as hers now. Some people would call this spooning, I suppose. I lay contentedly by her side, feeling with relief that my body temperature is actually having a positive effect on hers. ‘At least I could finally be of some help to her.’ I think, feeling her breathing tickle my hand. Its raining again outside and the noise of the rain hitting the glass windows and the trees rustling make my eyelids feel heavy. I’ve been monitoring her so closely the past few days that I haven’t gotten much sleep myself. I let my eyes close for just a second.</p><p>I wake with a panic, feeling the sun now streaming through into the room. Ugh, it must be sometime the next day. I look to my right, thankfully she’s still asleep. ‘How could I be so careless?’ I think, gently trying to slip myself out of her grasp. I finally free myself and start towards the bedroom door to leave when I hear it, Im not used to walking around in the open part of this room and I step on a creaky part of the floorboards.</p><p>I hear a small shuffle and a tiny voice let out “James?” I continue swiftly walking right out of the bedroom door and into the nearest escape in the hallway, feeling fire on my trail as I go. Once I’m safe in the walls again I clutch at my chest, my heart pounding so fast that I could faint. ‘Why, why, why did I do that? She saw me, she actually saw me.’ I pound at my head and feel like screaming but stay as silent as I possibly can, I don’t need to make this any worse by making noise now. I just have to hope that she was so half-awake and still feverish that she’ll chalk it up to her imagination. Even though it was broad daylight she saw me in, not the cover of darkness that night would usually allow me. How could I be this stupid? I felt almost sick myself, after all that.</p><p>Once I get back to my room, I sit down on my bed and bury my head in my pillow. ‘What was it that she said when she saw me?’ I think. It was the same name I’d heard the other day, the man that was looking for her. The sickening feeling only grew as I realize she thought I was him, she sounded scared when she let out his name.</p><p>Guilt overtook me. I didn’t want her to be afraid, thinking she wasn’t safe here. The earlier alternative of her discovering me as a freak who was presumed dead and lived in the walls now almost seemed better. I groan. Better than her being afraid that this James man had found her after all. Especially after she mentioned all the lengths she had gone to, to remain unfound. I had to know, whoever this guy was I’m sure I’d be able to find out if I read more of her diary. Even if I didn’t like what I read, I needed to know who this man was to make her so afraid.</p><p>I grabbed the journal loosely in my hands and something fell out from the back of the binding. I bend to pick it up and see it’s a bunch of photos, stacked and held together by a rubber band. As I begin to rifle through them I see nothing but different various injuries. Ranging from small cuts and bruises, to more gruesome looking wrapped appendages. I finally come to one of the photos and see it’s a close up of Anna’s face. I recognize the shape of her lips, which were now pictured split and bleeding. ‘What is all of this?’ I feel ill in earnest now, flipping through them all over and over again. There were dates on the backs of the photos, accompanied with a listing of the details of what had caused them. Who had caused them, rather. </p><p>The pieces all came together inside my head and my guilt returned in full force. ‘He did this all to her? That man.’ And because of my carelessness, she thought he was here in this house to hurt her again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘I saw him, I know I did’ I panicked. My body ached so badly, and I felt dizzy but I struggled to my feet and went for my phone. I didn’t know what to do, though. I was sick with a high fever, what if I called someone for help and they didn’t believe me? Who could I even call anyways.</p><p>I grimaced, I hated the police. The American police were especially heinous and corrupt, in all ways, and couldn’t be trusted. Once an officer came to James and I’s shared apartment after a noise complaint from one of his tantrums. The man on duty who showed up to the door saw the beginning of the black eye starting to form on my face and must have noticed my demeanor, as he was trained to do. He should have done something, anything. But the man had evidently known James’ father, was old pals with him. So he took his half-hearted excuses and left, even laughing and shaking James hand as he went. That was the day I learned I couldn’t rely on any higher authority to ever help me. I’m sure the cops here in England weren’t any better either.</p><p>I could call the delivery guy Malcolm to come by, pretending that I was just lonely and wanted some company. He was probably busy working though. If James really was here, then it wasn’t his style to run and hide. He would want me to know right away that he was here and had found me, in his gloating way. This didn’t make any sense, I don’t know what to do. I text Eva explaining the situation to her. As I wait to hear back from her about what she thinks I should do, I take more medicine and lay back down, still feeling woozy and sick.</p><p>‘If James had snuck in here just to sneak out, what could the reason possibly be?’ I felt a surge of nerves shock me then, and I leaned over frantically to check under the bed... Tears of frustration and fear starting forming in my eyes. ‘It’s gone. My diary isn't where I left it.’ That’s all the proof I had of everything he’s done. I was too afraid to back it all up digitally because of how tech savvy he is, I just assumed he’d find it on any device we shared so I didn’t even bother.</p><p>I laid back down and my head was swimming in panic. He really was here, I don’t understand how he could have found me so quickly. It didn’t seem possible. What mistake did I make that lead him to me? Dread was starting to consume me while I lay there unmoving. I didn’t understand why he would retreat after taking my only evidence away but I didn’t bother trying to make sense of his strange actions anymore, I felt defeated. Whatever he had in store for me next was surely some psychological torture, to punish me for leaving him I’m sure. Maybe I was a fool to think I could actually get away from him and live a happy life, the few days of possibility I felt was worth it though.</p><p>Before I knew it, hours had passed just lying there staring at the wall and I heard a beep from my phone. I turned over and looked at the screen, it was from Eva- ‘I just checked A, I took a cab all the way uptown and waited outside his job. It took awhile but I saw him come out, it was definitely him. Please take care of yourself, I know you’re not feeling well. Maybe try to eat something today, and if you’re fever gets too high- GO TO THE HOSPITAL. Okay, love you.’ </p><p>I set the phone down and checked under the bed once more, not sure what would scare me more at this point. But once again, my journal was no where to be found. ‘I don’t understand...what’s happening to me? Am I going crazy?’ I curl up and burst into a fit of tears, crying until I felt numb.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m a little bit late to upload but this election is stressin me the hell out! Wish I was in the English countryside right about now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After that terrible day, Ive been keeping myself almost entirely sequestered to behind the walls again for the time being. My penance, because after I finally finished reading the rest of her journal and saw those photos, I had a full picture of just how badly I must have scared her. If that sorry excuse for a man ever did find her here, I’m not sure what I would do. I really don’t think I’d be able to control myself. </p><p>As much as I might resent my father, that’s one thing he never did. He loved my mother very much and never even raised his voice to her, much less put his hands on either her or me. If anything, they had both been too lax with me I’m sure. From what I remembered of the ‘before’ of my childhood, I’d seldom been punished or told no by anyone. Until after the incident, when all I was ever told was no. ‘No’ I can’t leave the house, I’m not supposed to be seen. Over and over I’d ask, the answer never changed. No matter how much I begged to even just take a walk on our own gated property. </p><p>From then, I began to learn how to sneak around and became better and better at it, until I could simply just slip away out the back door unnoticed if I had so wanted. <em>If </em>I wanted. Ironic, that I would pride myself on my stealth for years and end up being caught at the worst possible moment. I would have torn the floorboards out with my bare hands and put carpeting in before she came here if I could have foreseen this.</p><p>Weeks have passed from then though, and she at least wasn’t ill anymore, but she still looked rather unwell. Her paranoia wouldn’t let her leave the house even to just walk in the garden a little, and she was jumping at every little sound the house made. </p><p>Not to mention, Malcolm is over almost every day now. She unknowingly managed to pick out the perfect punishment for me by now having his constant presence here in my house to annoy me. The only solace I receive are the moments where he’s saying something particularly facetious, with the sole purpose to impress her, and where he can’t see her face she’ll knowingly roll her eyes or smile a little to herself. She’s very astute, and it does make me smile, seeing how much smarter she is than him. Still, this situation was beginning to wear on me a little.</p><p>If it were anyone but him, it might not be so bad. But I watched my own parents bond with him for years while I can do nothing about it but watch and pretend I’m not jealous, and now it’s happening all over again. I know she’s only inviting him here because she’s afraid and doesn’t want to be alone. But he doesn’t know that, it’s become painfully obvious that Malcolm has taken a liking to her, and even worse is he assumes she shares his feeling. After all, she is visibly dejected on the days he’ll say he can’t come over due to his work schedule, what else would he think? He has no idea she just doesn’t want to be here alone if that man should come, but she wouldn’t be. I’d always be here, I’ll always protect her.</p><p>I’m eavesdropping on them now, sitting in the kitchen drinking tea together. </p><p>“Malcolm, I know this is going to sound weird but...has anybody new been to town and asked about me since I’ve been here?”</p><p>Malcolm takes pause, he shakes his head ‘no’ as he gulps down his tea, then follows up with “Not to me anyways, but I can ask around to some of the other shop owners. What’s this all about, anyway?” I can’t believe he just came out and asked her that, the wanker. Couldn’t he read in her body language just how hard it was for her to speak about this subject? I suppose if he was looking at her body, it wasn’t to read her little tells that she had when she was discomforted. I listen carefully for what she might reply...</p><p>“I have, well, it’s hard to explain but if some man is inquiring on my whereabouts let’s just say it wouldn’t be very good. It’s not like he’d be coming for a friendly visit. I’m sorry I can’t explain any more, it’s hard for me to...” her voice cuts off and she looks down, not able to speak anymore.</p><p>Malcolm places his hand on her arm, rubbing in comfort. “I’ll ask around to everyone I can today, okay? Don’t you worry Anna. This is a tight nit town, I’ll spread the word that if anyone asks after a beautiful red head, we’ll send em’ right in the other direction, okay?”</p><p>“Where, to Scotland?” She joked. He laughed and they both smiled at each other. “Thank you, Malcolm. I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel.”</p><p>They finish up soon after that, and he goes on his way. But even after he’s gone, my mood doesn’t lighten like it normally would. I go straight down to my room to seethe, and I don’t know why. The rage I felt at seeing him touch her arm like that, I didn’t fully understand it. I had touched her skin before, she had even gone as far as to touch me, however unconscious at the time. I should be happy that he would make it so that she would finally feel safe here again, and not be constantly on edge waiting for her ex fiancé to show up and try to take her away. So what was this reaction of mine? I was burning at the thought that he would dare be so familiar with her. I knew then, it wasn’t that he merely touched her, it was that his touch was used to comfort her. That he even could comfort her.</p><p>I felt a thousand miles away from her then, the crushing weight of finally realizing that the woman I loved didn’t know I even existed on this planet, suddenly had my heart in a pulverized mess in my chest. I felt my face twist as the hot anger pricked at my tear ducts. All the small joys throughout my days, of watching her do things, listening to her occasionally as she spoke to other people. People that were not, and would never be me. Smiles for them, laughs for them, words and thoughts not meant for me, but that I imposed on anyways. Just desperate to get what I could of her, but it wasn’t enough. For the first time in 20 years the feeling of want was overtaking me, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I want to exist to her, I want her to see me. I want to be seen and be allowed to exist again.</p><p>I sigh, I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s not like I can just come out suddenly without scaring her to death. The shock that I’m not only alive, but have been here living with her the whole time is going to be too much for her as it is.</p><p>She’s so so smart, if I could make it so that she guesses the truth then reveal myself it might lessen the blow. For weeks I’ve been making myself as scarce as possible to avoid any small chance my presence would be sensed by her, and now I was going to do the exact opposite. I almost laughed at the absurdity, but I had to do something. I don’t want to watch her from afar for forever, it was both my greatest joy and biggest torture.</p><p>Maybe I could start small, by leaving her a gift to find. Something that would be too sweet for her to ever mistake it being left for her from her ex. But of what? All that I’d read about the subject of romance throughout the years, and I still felt so ill-equipped that it was humiliating. I wish I could give her some grand gesture of my adoration, but how? What can I do from here? I am a tad hindered by my current situation of being wealthy but simultaneously having no real money. It’s not like I can just walk into town and get her something. </p><p>I just need to get creative, that’s all. But if I made something for her I’m terrified she wouldn’t like it. Or worse, she wouldn’t understand the gesture or sentiment behind it. To her, whatever I make for her might just end up seeming like a strange out of place object that she’s happened upon. She might even throw it away, and if I witnessed her putting something I’d lovingly made with my own hands right into the rubbish bin without a second thought I might actually wither away and die. </p><p>Then it hit me, I’d seen her rifling through an encyclopedia of flowers and plants earlier, for whatever reason. Maybe she was missing nature, as I did sometimes, especially considering she’d not been out for awhile now. No matter what the reason was, it would hopefully be fresh in her mind for when I give her what I planned to. I myself had the book memorized and could think of the perfect flower, if I’m lucky enough to find it.The acres of land here were full of all different kinds of foliage and my mother spent years planting all sorts of different flowers. What’s a bigger gesture than me leaving the safety of the house to venture out for her? I remembered all the various meanings mentioned in the book behind giving a partner different types of flowers, and this would be perfect. I grinned to myself then quietly headed out, too eager to wait.</p><p>
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</p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Every last bit of my energy had been absolutely spent these last weeks trying to convince myself I didn’t see what I thought I had. Eva called me that same day to check on me after I’d seemed so frantic in my message. I knew I could trust her and if she said she saw him there in the city, she had.</p><p>That still didn’t explain away my missing diary though. Could I really have been so careless as to leave that behind? That was arguably the most important thing for me to bring. I was stretched rather thin before I left New York, it was true. The stress of everything could have gotten to me and made me forget to take it, I suppose.</p><p>I sighed and stepped out onto the front porch. A walk outside to let the sun hit my face and warm me up might do me good. Autumn was here, and the air was crisp and fresh, I felt a cool breeze run through my hair and let myself just soak it in and decided to just let it all go. This was for the best, I had to stop myself from living in fear, always waiting for the worst and jumping at every sound. Trauma lived in the body, and the stress I was putting myself under was keeping me exhausted. It wasn’t any different than if I was still with him, I had less bruises but my mindset was still the same.</p><p>I lay in the grass and let the sun beam on my face when I hear the gate opening. Malcolm’s car is pulling up, he’s a few days earlier than I expected him to be. The last time he was here he mentioned he might not be by on his usual day to deliver because he would be busy doing inventory for a few days. He gets out of the car and goes to the back to unload a bunch of groceries. I hurry over to help him. </p><p>“Good to see you out here, Anna. It’s lovely out today, isn’t it?” He’s grinning and we lead up the stairs into the house.</p><p>“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask him after we finish bringing everything in.</p><p>“I’d love that, anything’s good.” I get the kettle going and sit in the seat across from him.</p><p>“I asked around to everyone I know and no one new has been in town after you’ve come here. I even asked Ron, the taxi cab driver and he said no one other than locals have ridden with him in the past month.” </p><p>Well, that was that then. It really was all in my head, I felt relief though. Even going crazy would be a better alternative than seeing him again. Malcolm and I small talk for about an hour after that before he has to leave again.</p><p>“Look Anna, I don’t know what your reasons are for coming here and taking a job so far away but I’m glad you’re here.” He says with a smile before turning to leave. “See you soon.” He gets in his car and I wave as he pulls away.</p><p>I head back into the kitchen to continue putting away the rest of the groceries and see a little red flower, just sitting off to the side in plain view. ‘Did Malcolm leave this?’ I wonder to myself. I remember the book of flowers I was looking at earlier for what type of roses to have sent to my brother’s grave and wonder if I could find what this is if I rifle through it again. I flip through the pages till I finally find what I’m looking for.</p><p>‘Red Carnation’ huh, it’s very pretty. The meaning is what catches my attention though. Admiration, fascination and... ‘My heart aches for you.’ Uh oh, Malcolm did leave this for me. I’ve tried to ignore what’s been becoming more obvious every time he visits. It’s a sweet gesture, but now I’m nervous I’ve been giving him the wrong impression a little. I do like spending time with him I guess, but I am kind of lonely right now. I also like spending time with the Brahms doll maybe just as much.</p><p>As for any romantic feelings he might have, I really hope I can subtly quash them before he actually comes out and says anything to me. I shudder to think how awkward my weekly deliveries could be after a spurned advance. Nothings more reactionary than an embarrassed man, he might quit this route and leave me to starve.</p><p>Well, I should at least call to thank him. After all, I don’t want to go too far in the other direction and be needlessly rude to him just to try and get across a point. To be honest, it is sort of thoughtful. The only other time I’d ever received flowers before had been half hearted attempts at an apology the day after a split lip or bruised eye. </p><p>I go to grab my phone and dial his number, he picks up on the first ring and I try not to chuckle. “Miss me already, American?” He answers.</p><p>“Ha Ha. No, I just wanted to call to thank you... for the flower, I mean.”</p><p>A beat of silence goes by then he says “oh, well I mean, of course. You’re welcome.” He seems genuinely surprised I’d call to thank him. Maybe he’d just saw it in passing on his way in and thought it was pretty and would be nice to give to me but he didn’t know the meaning, and it wasn’t as big of a deal as I thought. I hope so.</p><p>“Well, I better go. I’ve gotta go play music for Brahmsy or he’ll get impatient.” He laughs at that and we hang up.</p><p>~</p><p>‘Huh, that was odd. Of all the things I brought today why would she feel the need to go out of her way to thank me for the flour? Strange lass.’</p><p>~</p><p>I go back into the living room to sit by the piano and start playing around, thinking of a sequence of notes that have been stuck in my head the past few days and I start to play with them, seeing if it could be turned into anything. </p><p>Some hours pass and I decide to call the flower shop I looked up now that they’d be open for business hours. I feel guilty, but I’m going to miss going to Brandon’s grave this year on the date of his death. I’ve gone every other year before, and now that I’m so far away I want to at least have some white roses sent to the cemetery. 10 of them, 1 for every year I got to spend as his sister. He’ll be dead 7 years tomorrow. </p><p>I can’t help but wonder what my mom’s doing right now. Is she going to be up late crying tonight like I will? If I’d had the strength to be a better daughter to her after the accident would my life had taken a different path and seen us together, leaning on each other for support instead of both suffering separately from one another? I guess I’ll never know. </p><p>When I’m out of the shower and drying my hair off I walk towards my dresser, and I see a little Marigold sitting right there, on the desk for me to find it. I freeze in place, ‘Malcolm didn’t come upstairs at all when he was here earlier?’ I run down the steps to grab the book where I’d left it sitting just a few hours ago and tore through the pages to find what I was looking for. </p><p>‘Marigolds symbolize affection, cruelty, grief and jealousy.’ I drop the flower and go back to my room. I can’t do this again, I can’t work myself into a panic. I don’t know or care how that got into my room, for all I care the damn wind just blew it in from outside! So there, I just want to sleep and not have to think. I go into my medicine cabinet and instead of snapping one of my pills in half, I hesitate a second before taking a full one. I slip into my bed, curling up on my side and wait for sleep to take me.</p><p>Before I know it, I’m in the land between waking and sleep. My head is swimming and my body feels light. Then I suddenly feel a pair of big, warm hands on my bare legs, passing up and down my smooth skin. My mind is hazy, I think I’m dreaming but I’m not sure. I’m lying on my back and my legs are tucked up with my knees in the air. I try to straighten them out but can’t move. </p><p>The warm touch I had felt moments ago returns, rubbing slowly all along my cold legs. It feels good, but I want to open my eyes. If I am dreaming and am self aware of it, then I’m in control, right? So why can’t I will the hands to move up any higher on my thigh. I try to wriggle, to do anything to help move the soft touch to where I most want it to be, but all I can do is lay there unmoving. The hands grab my ankles then, gentle but strong, and pull them down so I’m flat on the bed again. Then I feel my face being lovingly cradled. God, I want to lean into the touch so badly. I fight hard to be able to move, but nothing. The thumb rubs along my cheek so softly, I let out a moan and can feel my warm breath exhaling onto someone else’s skin. </p><p>And just like that, the ghost of a touch is quickly gone. I feel it’s absence right away. I jerk awake with a gasp and reach my fingers to my face to touch where I’d felt the hand just moments ago. I was stuck in sleep paralysis, that’s why I was frozen. It had only happened to me a couple times before, but it was never like this. It felt so real, so real and so good. I look around my room with a quick glance and see nothing. ‘No more full pills for me, thanks.’ I think before I drift back off to sleep, hoping I might meet that same warm touch again in my dreams.</p><p>In the morning I wake up and have a few seconds of peace just laying there, before I remember what day it is. A fog immediately falls upon me and sucks out all the life I have in me completely. I trek down the steps and go right past the kitchen, not wanting to force myself to eat when I had no appetite. I go through the motions with the doll and try to just get through this day as fast as possible. My phone rings a couple of times throughout the day, but I can’t muster up the energy to answer. </p><p>I feel a guilt growing in me that I can’t shake, and think I should maybe call to check on my mother. ‘It won’t hurt just to try, will it?’ A stupid question, I realized. I already knew very well how much it can possibly hurt to try, and fail with her, but I still call anyway. I dial in her number that I have memorized and she picks up after a few rings. </p><p>“Hello? Who is this?” Oh shoot, she doesn’t have my new number.</p><p>“It’s me mom, it’s Anna.” I reply hesitantly. She’s gonna think I just changed my number on a whim and didn’t bother giving her the new one.</p><p>“Oh, where the hell have you been?” What does that mean? She’s the one who’s been missing from my life, not the other way around.</p><p>“I Uh,”</p><p>“You know, you’re fiancé has been by here looking for you. <em>Apparently</em> you just up and ran off without bothering to tell anyone.” James was there? At my mother’s house? He didn’t know me at all. I don’t care if I had the entire United States government looking for me and had no where to hide, I still wouldn’t go to my mother for any help. “You know Anna, some of us can’t just run off every couple of years to start a completely new life whenever we feel like. Some of us don’t have the luxury to just start over and forget everything that’s happened.”</p><p>“I didn’t, I haven’t.” I tell her desperately.</p><p>“Well, I hope you’re having tons of fun in your new life. I really do. Good luck finding another guy who will pay your way in life, cus god knows I won’t lend you any money. So don’t think you can just call in a couple of months when things dry out to ask me for some. If you had any sense, you’d think about your future and beg James to take you back while he’s still interested. Or do you think you can find another rich man who will make you his wife? Good job, being too busy avoiding responsibilities to come visit your brother’s grave with me, by the way. He’s been dead 7 years today, did you know that? Or have you forg-” my ears start ringing and I can no longer hear what she’s saying. ‘This was a mistake. This was a mistake’ I keep thinking over and over, trying to calm myself.</p><p>Before she can say another word, I hang up the phone and toss it across the room onto the couch. Without another thought, I get up and walk into Mr. Heelshires study. I usually try to steer clear of this room along with the master bedroom unless it’s to clean, but this is an emergency. I go over to his liquor cabinet and grab the first bottle I see. ‘Johnny Walker’ I sniff and it smells like jet fuel. What in the old white man hell is this? I take a swig and cringe, “Ugh!” This is the nastiest thing I have ever tasted, which is perfect because I have a feeling it’ll serve my purposes all the better.</p><p>By the end of this night, I won’t even know the year, much less the damn date. ‘Did I remember?’ I scoffed. She’d not let me forget a single fucking day since, I deserved one night of not having to remember. I throw the bottle back once more, then again and again and again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘This is a disaster’ I think to myself, watching Anna crawl on all fours up the steps to get to her room. I’ve seen my father drunk before, but I’ve never seen anything like this. She’s lost all motor control, I can’t believe she hasn’t broken anything yet with all the stumbling around she’s been doing the past couple of hours. </p><p>I sympathize with her though, I truly do. I don’t know what was said on the other end of the line but I knew she tried to call her mom earlier and it clearly hadn’t ended well. Everything I’ve read about her mother and I can’t say I’m surprised. </p><p>I don’t think she can hold her liquor very well, though. I’m glad she’s at least going to bed now. ‘Maybe I better watch over her, what if she’s sick again?’ I think. I follow her up the steps and watch her fall carelessly into bed, not bothering to change into pajamas, just taking off the clothes she had on and tossing them to the floor. I just need to wait for her to fall asleep, then I can put a bunch of pillows up behind her so there’s no chance she rolls onto her back in her sleep. I didn’t know much about stuff like this, but I knew it was dangerous to pass out drunk and not be on your side. </p><p>She’s asleep almost instantaneously though, I sigh and walk through the doorway. I don’t think there’s much danger in her waking up and seeing me now, considering she was dancing with a broom and calling it ‘Eva’ just a few minutes ago, she’s long passed the point of having any awareness whatsoever. I go ahead and sit on the other side of the bed, while I stack up a bunch of pillows behind her. She rolls over then, but stays sleeping. She’s not making this very easy, I’ll just have to stay here and watch over her until she falls into a deeper sleep and stops tossing and turning so much. I put my feet up on the bed and lay beside her with my hands resting in my lap. </p><p>‘What am I gonna do with you, huh?’ I push a strand of hair away from her face. Her past few days have been so bad, my little gift for her didn’t seem to help at all either. ‘If I ever get ahold of Malcolm...’ I grimace. </p><p>My train of thought is interrupted by Anna’s body turning over onto mine. She’s using me as a body pillow again, but this time she has me in a tighter grasp. My hands are pinned to my sides and her head rests on my chest. I lay there, too afraid to move and feel a delicious warmth running through my whole body, like liquid sunshine is filling me up. She nuzzles up closer then, into the crook of my neck and the feeling intensifies. I bask in the warm, heady feeling for what feels like hours. </p><p>Her little fingers press into my flesh and she drags her body even closer, practically laying entirely on top of me, then starts to roll her hips onto mine. Then she does it again, and again, until she’s thrusting into me with a rhythm now. I can’t move, and I can’t stop my own body from reacting. She grinds up against my hardness and I can feel through my pants that she’s wet. I stifle a moan in my throat and cover my mouth with my hand. Without any mercy at all she rubs up against me even harder, her motions getting more and more sloppy, and she lets out little breathy noises against my neck as she uses me to get herself off. I feel lightheaded and my knuckles are turning white from how hard I’m clenching my hands to be able to stop myself from touching her.</p><p>Her little noises turn into more audible moans as she’s getting closer and closer, I savor every second of this torture as I know it’s soon to end. She moves against me a couple more times and then I feel her hands gripping my shoulders tightly as she finds her release, and that thought alone would have been enough for me to quickly follow but the desperate moan she lets out as she does so is what topples me over the edge. I groan against my hand and try to be as quiet as possible. </p><p>Once we’re both done and spent, lying there next to each other, I listen carefully as her breathing slows back to a normal pace. Her grip loosens on me but her hands don’t move, she’s still laying with half her body thrown over mine and I have to find a way to slip out without disturbing her. I gently lift her arm and place it to her side, then do the same to her leg, kissing her inner thigh softly once before I leave. As I do though, I can see even in the darkness how wet she was, soaked through her underwear and I stumble out of the room feeling dizzy. </p><p>I don’t fall asleep feeling necessarily all that proud of myself. I may not have been the initiator per se but I certainly wasn’t in a big panic to try and get her off of me. I wanted her to feel good, and the thought of me being the one to bring her to that feeling had been plaguing my thoughts every night for the last month. But I wanted her to want me to, and her being drunk and asleep certainly wasn’t that. I did feel guilty, but it wasn’t enough to stop the coming thoughts I had. I wanted to remember every second of what just happened in perfect clarity, it may be all I ever get.</p><p>The next morning my good mood is completely dashed by hearing Malcolm’s car pull up the driveway. Isn’t he here a bit too much? She didn’t even ask him to come this time, must I not have even a days reprieve from him? Well, since the liars here I want to go and listen in. If I’m lucky, I’m hoping he somehow gets caught for taking credit for my gift. Anna goes to answer the door. </p><p>“Hi Malcolm, what brings you by today? Figured you’d be too busy to hang for awhile because of work. Come in-” he rushes past her before she can even fully invite him in. </p><p>“Anna, lets sit. In the lounge, come on.” He seems a bit high strung, more so than usual. Is he trying to build up the courage to ask her out?</p><p>They both take a seat and Malcolm speaks first “the Heelshires were both found dead this morning.” Anna looks shocked, she raises her hand to cup her throat.</p><p>“What do you mean ‘found dead’ what the hell happened?” She asks</p><p>“Their bodies were found in a river, they were...they’d done it to themselves, basically.” My mind is so many places in that second that I unthinkingly lean back against one of the support beams and it makes a loud creak. Both Anna and Malcolm turn to where I am behind the wall and stare for a moment.</p><p>Anna breaks away first “I don’t understand, they actually killed themselves? Does anyone know why?” I know why.</p><p>Malcolm looks uncomfortable “I mean, life’s not been too kind to them has it.”</p><p>Anna shakes her head “but, their son died 20 years ago. Why now?”</p><p>“I guess it just wore on them, little by little each year until they couldn’t take it anymore.” Malcolm replied.</p><p>That snapped me out of my looping thoughts. ‘It’s because of me. They couldn’t take being around me anymore.’ I was gonna throw up. I left their conversation before it finished, I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to deal with Malcolm guessing too close to the actual truth. It had worn on them the past 20 years, having to deal with me.</p><p>I got down to my room and paced around in circles. Then I remembered the letter they had left, I practically tear it open almost ripping it in the process. I read it all, then read it again. Then a third time. ‘We cannot bare to live with what we have allowed you to become.’ I was right, it was because of me. I had the proof right here, in my hands. </p><p>They said that Anna is mine now, but they didn’t know just how wrong they were. The truth is, it’s the opposite. I’m hers. I belong to her, she’ll never belong to me. She doesn’t even know me and now she probably never will. I’m sure she’ll leave now, on to find a new job. Maybe with a living child this time. As for me, no one on this planet will even know I’m alive. I really will be a ghost, it will be the same as if I had died all those years ago. </p><p>I don’t want to, but I can’t stop myself from feeling angry at them. Even though they’re dead, it doesn’t take away all the things they did. All the things they didn’t do. I should feel sadder, if I was a good son I’d be crying right now. But all I feel is hollow, hollow and resentful. They’ve left me with nothing but this house, which I will probably die in. How am I even going to get food without Anna here to accept deliveries? I better learn how to hunt and gather or something.</p><p>I go back upstairs, I have nothing else to do. Besides, I want to be able to see Anna while I still can. I want to soak up every last second I have with her before she leaves. I suppose my parents thought me depraved enough to what, force her to stay with me here once they were both gone?</p><p>The smallest, most primitive part of myself imagined the idea for a second. But I knew I couldn’t ever do that, I loved her. If I kept her here like that, I would be no different than James to her. Besides, the letter they left me said that she wasn’t only mine to love, but to also care for. I was just beginning to finally understand what it meant to care for someone after living for 28 years. It means putting them before yourself, always. I sigh and go back to listen in on where they’re both still sitting.</p><p>“I can make the arrangements for a ride to the airport for you, if you’d like Anna. But when the cops came to tell me what happened they gave me a note that Mr. Heelshire had in his wallet at the scene, it was an account number for me and you. I guess it’s to continue payments for both of our, services...” Malcolm waits in silence for a few moments. “I can understand if you wouldn’t want to do that though.”</p><p>This is it, the final blow to me. “I think I will stay.” She says, playing with her hands. “I actually like it here, believe it or not. I want to stay. So if they made plans to keep me on, then that’s what I’ll do. They don’t know it, but this job helped get me out of a really bad situation. I never got to thank them for that, this could be a small way to do that though. Looking after their house and...Brahms too.” She looks at the doll sitting in the corner and smiles.</p><p>Malcolm smiles too and scoots closer to her on the couch. “I’m glad you’re staying. This town really ain’t so bad, is it?”</p><p>She laughs “Actually, I don’t know. I haven’t really gotten to see the town yet, remember?”</p><p>Malcolm perks up at this. “Well, who better to show you around than me? Let me take you to all the best spots I know one of these days.” She just smiles, not turning him down or agreeing. She walks him to the front door and he leaves.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I feel so terrible. I remember how strange my goodbye was with Mrs. Heelshire the day they left for vacation. Only, they didn’t go on some grand long awaited trip, they’d been planning all along to kill themselves. If they put contingency payment plans in place for Malcolm and I to keep being paid, then they’d been planning this for awhile. </p><p>Still, I wish I had noticed something before they both left. What could I have done though? Nothing could have taken away their sadness of the last 2 decades. I guess they just wanted to go be with their son again. Did that mean that they truly didn’t believe the doll was their son then? No, I guess they must if they’d be willing to keep me working here.</p><p>How strange and morose this whole thing has become. I can’t believe a little over a month ago I’d been excited to be a nanny to a little 8 year old boy, and now I’m in this situation. I need to call Eva, she’s been worried about me since yesterday and I was too hungover to call her back this morning. </p><p>She picks up her FaceTime and it looks like she’s on the subway. “Anna look! It’s a huge rat fighting another smaller rat for a cigarette someone dropped.” She turns the phone so I can see. Oh wow, that really is a big rat.</p><p>I laugh “Eva, turn the phone back around right now! Something serious has happened.” </p><p>“Oh shit, my bad. What is it?” The camera’s facing her again.</p><p>“The family that employed me, you remember, well anyways I guess they both killed themselves. I just got the news a few minutes ago.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ Anna! that’s awful.”</p><p>I sigh “yeah I know, it’s all so sad E. I feel like...”</p><p>“What?” She asks me.</p><p>“I feel kind of guilty. They were acting so weird before they left, speaking cryptically and hugging me even though I was basically a stranger to them. I wish I’d-”</p><p>“Don’t Anna, don’t take that on. You’re right, you were just a stranger to them. So there’s no way in hell you could’ve known that they were gonna, well, do that.” We both look at each other and sigh. “It’s so sad though A,” she says “I hate to sound insensitive but, what are you gonna do for a job now? Do you need me to go looking again cus I can when I get home.” </p><p>“No, that’s the other weird thing, they’re keeping me on. They’ve set up payment plans and everything. I’d like to think it’s just to watch over the house but I think we both know it’s because of the doll.”</p><p>“God.” Eva lets out “they died never being able to accept the fact that their son was gone. It’s all so tragic.” </p><p>“I know.” I frown. “Still, I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little grateful. I mean, I don’t want to start over again after I’ve just got settled. I kind of like it here a little. To finally have some peace and quiet after years of...” I trail off, I don’t have to finish my sentence, she already knows what I was thinking.</p><p>“I’m glad Anna. You deserve some time to recuperate after everything. Look don’t be mad either, but I’ve been back to James’ building a few days ago, just to be sure, and I definitely saw him again. Please, I don’t want you to worry anymore. I really think you’re safe there.”</p><p>I tear up a little. No matter what was going on, Eva was always thinking of me and watching out for me. I didn’t deserve her. “Thanks E, I love you so much.” I sniffle.</p><p>“Haha, don’t make me cry on the subway please! I need to look tough on here, or the rats will sense my weakness and rob me.” <br/><br/>I laughed. “My money’s on that big rat, to be honest.” </p><p>I hang up and go back to my routine with the Brahms doll. Being extra sweet with him today, not able to stop myself from thinking that his parents could be watching over us somehow, now that they were dead. I kiss him on both cheeks and the forehead, and I sleep with him on his bed that night. </p><p>The next few weeks pass by quickly, and it’s starting to get cold out again. I think about going up into the attic soon, to look for some Christmas decorations to liven up the place up a bit, but I’m a little scared of the attic so I hold off. I’m rifling through the mail being sent when I come across my own name. My first name at least, with no return address. My stomach sinks. No one who knows I’m here would have to write me a letter to get ahold of me. Maybe it’s about the estate, some legal crap from an attorney of the Heelshires. I open up the letter and begin to read.</p><p><br/><br/>‘Dear Miss Anna, you don’t know me but I’d like to ask a favor of you. Would you read this letter outside in the garden, if you could? It will all make sense in the end, I promise you.’ What in the hell is this? I step outside into the cold, curious and wondering what it could all mean. I continue on ‘I can not explain how or why I know this, but I have reason to think that you may not be safe in the house you’re currently residing. Or at least, you may not be alone. I’m sorry to be so cryptic, I don’t want to scare you but my conscious is forcing me to at least try to warn you of this much. My conscious is also what is keeping me from being able to say anymore, and I hope you will forgive me that. You can choose to heed my warning or not, as long as I’ve told you this I can at least sleep well at night again. Wishing you all the best going forward, -anonymous. P.s. burn this letter as you re-enter the house.’ </p><p>What the fuck is going on? I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and call Malcolm. “Malcolm, is this letter some sort of prank of yours? Some dry English humor that I can’t comprehend?” </p><p>“Anna what letter are you talking about?” I pause.</p><p>“You really don’t know?” I ask him.</p><p>“No. Tell me what you’re talking about, what letter?” </p><p>“Um, never mind gotta go.” I hang up. If this isn’t Malcolm then whatever this is, it’s bad. No one else should even know I’m here, no one else who’s alive that is.</p><p>‘What does that mean, I might not be alone? Was this person talking about ghosts or something?’ Nothing else made sense, how could I not be alone? Even if I may not believe in ghosts, a lot of people did. And all 3 residents of the house were now dead, after all. Still, this wasn’t adding up at all. </p><p>I march back into the house, setting the letter down while I go to make myself some coffee to try and wake my brain up a little, it’s too early for shit like this. I think I might have to call Rebecca, I mean, this was a weird enough occurrence that I had to call her I think. After all the work I’ve done convincing myself that I was safe in this house, this was the last thing I needed. </p><p>I drink my coffee then go to FaceTime her. It’s nighttime there, but it’s not too late. She’s still in the office it looks like. “Hi Anna, is everything okay?”</p><p>“Not really Rebecca, look...something really weird just happened and I need to talk to someone. Were you busy?” I ask sheepishly, noting that if she was I’d already interrupted her. </p><p>“No Anna, I’m never too busy for you. Tell me what’s happened.” I exhale in relief.</p><p>“I just got a letter in the mail, even though no one should even know about me being here, and the letter says that I’m not safe here.” She looks worried. </p><p>“Read me this letter Anna, I need to hear the whole thing I think.” I go to grab it where I left it sitting at and...</p><p>“I’ll call you back.” I hang up the phone.</p><p>I turn around and look back to the spot where I’d left it. Empty. It wasn’t there, where the hell could it have gone? I retrace my steps from the moment I entered the house to the kitchen and see it no where. How can something just vanish like that? Things appeared and disappeared out of thin air all the time here in this house, now that I think about it. I sit and think, really think about what the letter said. ‘You may not be alone.’ </p><p>I shoot up then, out of my seat and start running all around the house. Opening every door in the place. Every room, every closet, the cellar, the... ‘The attic.’ I think to myself and run over to pull the ladder down. My adrenaline was pumping so fast I was running around almost possessed. But I had enough sense now to at least grab the fire place poker and bring it with me into the dark space. I use my phone as a flashlight and slowly rise up, with the poker out in front of me.</p><p>“Hello?” I look around, behind boxes and next to coat racks. Nothing, no one. I go back down and go over every inch of the house again once more and still find nothing. No, there couldn’t possibly be someone here with me. So why don’t I feel reassured?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What makes a monster and what makes a man?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m sitting at the desk in my dark room, with no light besides the small lamp illuminating just enough for me to reread this letter for the third time in the past few minutes. I’d grabbed it without thinking, too curious to just leave it alone. I thought I’d be able to slip it right back in place before she returned from the kitchen, her never knowing it was gone, but I was foolish again. I should’ve just left it be, but after she left the house just to read it I wanted to know why. I didn’t realize that taking it like I did might’ve confirmed the very contents of this letter. </p><p>She was running around the house right now. I can hear her, tearing through it to try and find any evidence to prove that she might not be alone here. Or to prove that she was, I’m not sure which direction her thoughts lied in right now. </p><p>All I know is that she was right, not only is there no one who should know she’s living here to address this to her, no one left alive on this earth should know that I’m here either. I didn’t recognize the handwriting I was looking at on the page, which assuaged my most irrational fear. That my parents were somehow still alive, and couldn’t live with themselves after ‘leaving’ Anna for me. It would be so like them, to fake their own deaths like they faked mine, but that can’t be. I was being ridiculous, the police told Malcolm that their bodies were found in a lake, had they not? No, they were certainly dead. So who is it that seems to know I’m not?</p><p>Well, this is doomed to put another hitch in my plan, that’s for sure. Must everything always go so wrong? As if I needed Anna to be any more afraid than she already was. Whoever wrote this, I’d love to get my hands on them.</p><p>I go to stuff the letter in my desk drawer, knowing there’s no use to put it back where Anna left it now, the damage was done. I see the suicide note of my parents, and lying next to that, I see the little key. Sitting right where I’d left it the night my father gave it to me, collecting dust. I’d forgotten. I grab it in my hand and puzzle over it. He had said that when the time came, I would know to use it, that he had left something for me in there. Well, this was surely the time. </p><p>Whoever knew I was alive the answer must lie in my father’s study, like most of his secrets did. Some lawyer perhaps, that he needed to inform about me in some sort of ‘worst case scenario’ back-up plan. A lawyer with a guilty conscience though? It seemed strange indeed, but who else could they have possibly told their darkest secret to? And for what reason. </p><p>I’ll have to wait till after Anna falls asleep to go look, until then I better just stay away. As much as I wanted to show myself to her, this letter has left her with the impression that if she’s not alone here, that she’s not safe. I grind my teeth in annoyance. I suppose whoever wrote this had just about as much faith in me as my own mother and father had, and they think I’m some sort of monster as well. ‘Well if I am, who made me that way?’ I scoff.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the house is safe to roam again, it’s well into the night. I open the passageway that leads into my father’s study, and go to shut the door to the room. I should be fine, Anna hasn’t come back in here since the night she got drunk. I look around, and even though this room is so much my father, it feels unfamiliar and foreign to me. All his years spent in this room, with me not allowed to enter without his invitation. Now that I could be in here anytime I wanted, I wanted nothing more than to be out of here as quick as possible. </p><p>I sat in his chair and took the key from my pocket, twisting it into the drawer and sliding it open. Inside was a manila envelope, with nothing but a piece of paper with a phone number written on it inside. There was also a letter with my name written on the front. ‘One suicide note wasn’t enough for the old man, I suppose.’ I roll my eyes. I leave the office, wanting to get away from this room sooner rather than later, and head back down into my room to start to read.</p><p> </p><p>‘To my son- the time has come to finally explain myself for all the years leading up to what has become of us all, and how it ended up this way. By the time you’re reading this I’m sure your mother and I must be gone. As much as I should’ve just told you all this in person, I don’t think I can stand to face you after all my mistakes. As you might remember, your cousin Charles called not long ago asking your mother and I to visit him for the first time in years. You two were so close growing up, I still remember you following him around like a little duckling, it made your mother so happy seeing you both together. For that very reason, we thought it too cruel to have him over to the house for him and you both. He preferred we go to my brother’s house anyways. It is for your cousin to tell you the reason we came to the topic in discussion we did that day if he so wishes, but it is through him we found out the truth. On your eighth birthday, when you came out of the woods crying that Emily was dead and it was all your fault, do you remember it? Part of me hopes you don’t remember much of that terrible day at all. The day we failed you so horrendously. After your mother and I locked you in your room to calm down and wait for us, the police arrived. Emily’s parents arrived shortly after that, I still to this day have no idea how they knew what had happened so quickly. Another piece of the puzzle lost I suppose, but by the time they arrived the police had their minds already decided. No matter what had happened, accident or no, you would never have gotten into any real trouble. Such is the way we raised you, with privilege that we mistakenly thought of as a gift, but it doomed you. Emily’s parents were out of their minds with grief and above all, fury. They were past the point of hearing anything the police chief tried to tell them. Her father wanted forensic testing to be done, the police chief tried to explain to them that there was no way to prove if Emily had simply fallen, or was pushed, and with no witnesses of the incident nothing more could be done. But Mr. Cribbs insisted that you at the very least be interrogated, that’s when Mrs. Cribbs stopped him. Even if you were found at fault, you would only spend a few years in psychiatric hospital at most, and their little girl would be ‘gone forever’ as she put it. They both left then, and your mother and I finished up with the police. By the time we came back to the house we saw the smoke coming from your room. Your mother ran in to unlock your door and put the fire out before you were killed. We both knew who had started it, and that if they didn’t believe you dead, they would only try to harm you again. They wouldn’t have cared about any legal consequences themselves with their only child already dead. So we decided that day that it would be best if we pretended you had died. I told your mother it was just for your own safety, that Emily’s parents would stop at nothing to find a way to make you pay if they knew you were still alive. But a small part of me also told myself that it was justice, in some sick way, because their daughter was indeed dead and gone forever. I didn’t realize at the time just how wrong I was. If I had been a better father and just talked to you, asked you, I wouldn’t have betrayed you by letting the people who tried to murder my own son be free while I locked you away for something you never did. The day we realized we had been punishing you for something that wasn’t your fault was the day we decided that we could no longer go on living. Though no words I can ever write on this piece of paper will justify taking away 20 years of your life, I am sorry my son. I failed at the most important job life gave me, being your father. If the day ever comes when your nanny might find you living here and she should leave you on your own, I want you to call your cousin for help. He owes you that, and has promised to do anything he can for you. I love you.’</p><p> </p><p>I was shaking so hard my body hurt. All these years, I thought they made me pretend to be dead because of how my face looked. That I would never live a normal life with such a disfigurement. That’s why they could barely stand to look at me, right? Why I wore this mask, because I was so ugly. They thought I had killed Emily? She was one of the only people who was ever nice to me when we were children. She was my friend, and her parents...</p><p>I threw up on my floor then, weakly falling to my hands and knees and retching again. My shaking hands picked up the letter and the words blurred on the page, illegible. I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t control my tears and my ears were ringing in my head. I just laid there on my floor, curled up in a ball. The nearest thing to me was a shirt I’d stolen from Anna’s room, I reached out and clutched it to me. It still smelled like her, like honeysuckle and her shampoo I loved so much. I laid there immobilized, breathing in and out trying to calm myself.</p><p>I know it should make me understand them more, but I truly hated my parents now after reading what I just had. They let me burn, they let the people who did this to me get away. My father said he hoped I didn’t remember, but I remembered everything from that day. </p><p>I was hiding under my comforter in my bed and hyperventilating, having already cried for so long that my throat burned. I’d felt guilty and sick for Emily falling and hitting her head, I dared her to climb up to the railway bridge that we weren’t allowed to go up to.</p><p>She was joking about how even though we were the same age again, she was still bigger and braver, and it made me mad. So I told her to prove it. Only the bigger kids ever went up to the spot, and she was showing off by balancing on one foot when she slipped off, it happened so fast. She was only up there because I goaded her, and then she fell and I heard the noise her body made when it hit the rocks below, a sickening crack. I knew she was dead by the position her limbs were in, all unnaturally splayed, but I still walked up to her to check, her nose and ears were leaking blood.</p><p>I ran all the way back home as fast as I could to tell my parents, when I said it was my fault I didn’t think they’d actually assume I’d murdered her. I was a child, why did everyone always think the worst of me? Emily’s parents too, I can’t believe they actually tried to kill me. The same people who baked us cookies and let us stay up past our bedtimes to watch movies and took us to swimming lessons.</p><p>I still remember the funny smell when I was under my covers, the liquid being poured on my blanket and then the noise of the flicker from a lighter. I tried my best to block it out and never think about it, it didn’t make any sense to me what was happening or why, but it came back to me in little pieces all throughout the years. Oh yes I remembered, every agonizing second, and the painful months after that I so desperately needed my parents comfort for. Did they not comfort me because they thought I was a murderer, and deserved what I was feeling? Or could they just not bare the guilt of looking at me. I’ll never know now, the absolute cowards.</p><p>What does my cousin have to do with all this? My father seemed to think he owed me, for what? I wasn’t sure I could handle knowing. Besides Emily, he was my best friend. He wouldn’t have done anything bad to me, would he? I got up off my floor then crawled into bed. The wave of sickness passed, now leaving me feeling clammy and weak. The next few days passed by and I barely got out of bed, I just slept most of my nights and days. </p><p>I know I’m feeling sorry for myself, but I can’t help it. Who’s left for me to take my anger out on? No one who deserves it, I suppose. The only thing that could break me out of my stupor was an unexpected knock at the door.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>‘Who on earth could that be now?’ I wonder. Malcolm mentioned earlier he’ll be gone for the whole weekend, something about a bachelor party trip with some friends. I open up the door and see someone I don’t recognize standing there.</p><p>“Can I help you?” I ask. A man stands at the doorway. Tall and well dressed, with dirty blonde hair. He was a bit disheveled looking, but handsome.</p><p>“Are you Anna?” He rubs his hands together to try and warm himself.</p><p>“Yes, and who are you?” I ask.</p><p>“My name’s Charles Heelshire, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He holds out his hand for me and I take it. I didn’t know the Heelshires had any more living relatives.</p><p>“Um, I’m not really supposed to have guests in but-” I start. His eyes dart behind me, all around the inside of the house and he subconsciously backs up a step.</p><p>“That’s fine, I don’t want to come in. Actually, would you mind it very much if we took a stroll in the garden together? I’d like to talk.” He smiles at me, charming, and shoves his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“I guess that would be okay.” This feels a little strange, I hope he isn’t here to try and kick me out of the house. I didn’t know the Heelshires had any other living family, and it makes it all the more odd that they would leave their house temporarily in my possession. He leads the way as I step out into the cold air, grabbing my coat before I shut the door behind me.</p><p>“Did you get my letter?” He turns to look at me as we walk side by side. So this is who sent me that damn thing. Why would he think it’s remotely okay to scare a complete stranger like he did to me?</p><p>“I suppose I should explain,” he sighs, we both sit on the nearby bench together.</p><p>“It would’ve been nice if you had explained a tad more in that little letter of yours.” I say, a bit annoyed. “Let me guess, you think the house is haunted or something?” I ask him outright, feeling exacerbated. I saw the way he looked when I tried to ask him in, he looked scared. It’s freezing outside, there’s no reason we should be discussing anything out here but here we both are.</p><p>“Ha!” He lets out a loud laugh, surprising me. “I guess it would appear that way to you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so cryptic but I had no choice.” So if not that, then what?</p><p>“I admit, I thought when you received my letter, you would simply just move on and find a new job. But then I heard from Malcolm that you hadn’t mentioned any plans of leaving. Thinking on it now, I was a fool to think anyone would take that letter seriously. I barely said anything of substance in it at all. That’s why I had to come today, you deserve to at least hear what I have to say before you decide if you really want to stay here, in this house...” his eyes shot back to the mansion when he spoke the last few words, and his brow furrowed slightly.</p><p>“My father is Mr. Heelshires brother, Brahms and I were cousins. More than that, he was my best friend growing up.” I felt sorry then, not only for his loss of his cousin but now his aunt and uncle all these years later. It can’t have been easy on him, losing so many family members. I leaned in closer to better listen.</p><p>“My aunt and uncle, after Brahms died it changed them. They stopped coming for holidays, different events, birthdays especially were hard on them, for obvious reasons. They became shut-ins, after awhile we hardly saw them at all. My father tried his best, to get through to them. To try and find any way to help them move on a little, but to no avail. It was like they wanted to be miserable. Years had passed since I’d seen them, until this past summer. My father was diagnosed with cancer, and he was too stubborn to tell my uncle. So, I invited them both over one day while my parents were in hospital to tell them myself. I couldn’t believe it when they actually showed up to the house, and when they did I almost didn’t recognize them. The years of sadness withered away at them, worse than I could have imagined and I just couldn’t tell them. I didn’t want them to experience any more pain, I could see they’d had enough. Before they left I tried to...apologize. For Brahms, I mean.”</p><p>“What do you mean apologize?” I broke into his reverie. He looked back up into one of the windows of the house, the one that used to be Brahms’ bedroom when he was alive. Then he dropped his gaze back down to his lap.</p><p>“Did anyone tell you how Brahms died?” He asked.</p><p>Malcolm had tried to, but before he could tell me the whole sordid tale I asked him to spare me the details. I can’t hear any stories about children dying, not anymore. It’s too much for me after Brandon, all I know is that Brahms and his childhood friend both died on his birthday, I assumed in some accident together. “No, I just know it was on his 8th birthday.”</p><p>“Yes. It was a fire, and if I wasn’t such a coward I would have been there with him in his room.” His eyes looked glassy and far-away. “When he tried to light his own birthday candle and it caught flame. I’m the older one, I would have been able to put it out and save us both, if I had been there like I should have.”</p><p>What did he mean he would have been there if he wasn’t such a coward? I felt terrible for him. I knew all too well what it’s like to live with guilt like that, but I didn’t understand at all what he meant. I had a feeling I wasn’t getting the full story.</p><p>“I’m sorry, but I don’t get it. Did Emily die in the fire too? Wasn’t she there as well?” He looked at me puzzled.</p><p>“Emily was already dead by then.”</p><p>“...Oh, I see. How did she-?” I let my sentence trail off, but he stayed silent. I could see this was all very hard for him to talk about, but I was more confused now than ever.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter now.” He finally replied. I left it at that, whatever it was I could sense he wouldn’t talk about it further. Not to me.</p><p>“After we talked for awhile, they left looking rather shaken up. The next day they came back and told me something unbelievable. They’d said, that Brahms was alive. That he didn’t die that day, and if I really was sorry that I could still make it up to him somehow.”</p><p>Oh no, now I see what’s really going on. “Um...Charles, I don’t want to sound insensitive,”</p><p>“No, go on and say what you’re thinking. It’s okay” he reassured me.</p><p>“It’s just that, you hadn’t seen your aunt and uncle in years, you don’t know how sick they’d gotten before the end. It’s hard to explain, but they really did believe their son was still alive, in a way.” He looked confused and pity surged through me. This wasn’t my place, none of this was. I didn’t know how I’d become so entangled in what should’ve stayed a family affair but I was the only one left to tell him the truth, so I had to.</p><p>“When I took this job, it seemed too good to be true. The pay, on top of the fact that it was a live-in position was astronomical. Then when I got here, I understood. I wasn’t being paid so obscenely for my services as a nanny, but for going along with such a strange facade. Everyday I wake up and feed, read to, and care for a porcelain doll that I have to call ‘Brahms.’ Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? They really did believe their son was still alive, as the doll, before they did it.” I didn’t want to actually say the words, ‘killed themselves.’ He knew very well what I meant. “Why else did you think they’d hire a nanny?” I ask him.</p><p>“To be honest I thought you were a housekeeper or something, I didn’t know, I...” he shakes his head and turns to me.</p><p>“Look, I don’t know if you’re right or not, I hope for all our sakes you are but you didn’t hear them that day. They weren’t talking about some doll with me, they just weren’t. I don’t know how to explain it to you,” he struggled with his words and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Are you telling me there hasn’t been anything weird that’s happened to you since you’ve arrived here in this house?”</p><p>At that, I fell silent. I suddenly didn’t know what to say. “Charles, why are you afraid to go into the house?” I asked him then. He didn’t bother denying it.</p><p>“The few times I’ve come here after the accident over the years, I almost always felt his presence. More than that, it was like Brahms was still there with me. When I would leave a room I’d think I’d heard someone leaving with me, just a few footsteps behind, then when I turned around I saw nothing. That feeling never left me, anytime I’m in that house I feel him right there with me. So I stopped coming over, I thought it was my guilt eating away at me, wishful thinking that he was still right there trailing after me, like he’d always been before. I’m 3 years older than him you know, when you’re kids that’s a big age difference. I was always the one who protected him, when the other kids would pick on him. He looked up to me,” he stopped speaking then, unable to go on. I let us both just sit in silence for a moment, waiting for him to collect himself.</p><p>“Look,” he started “I’m not crazy, I know how this sounds. I didn’t come here today to scare you away, but I had to at least try and warn you more properly.”</p><p>Another thing I didn’t understand at all. “Warn me of what though, Charles? If Brahms was alive why would I be in any danger?” I asked.</p><p>He looked ashamed, he didn’t speak for a few seconds then said “I loved my cousin, I still do and always will, but if...and I mean <em>if</em> he really is somehow still alive, then he would have spent the last 20 years of his life entirely alone and sequestered from society completely. I’m not sure what kind of man that would turn someone into. Being 28 and never, well you know, never anything. It’s just-”</p><p>I realize what he’s trying to say and start to squirm uncomfortably. “You think your cousin would try and hurt me if he was in the house with me?” I guessed. He doesn’t want to say yes, but I see in his eyes that’s what he’s afraid of. I want to tell him that I looked all around the house, from top to bottom and found no sign of anyone else being there at all, but I don’t know that he would truly hear me. If the Heelshires showed me anything, it’s that people will believe what they want to believe, whether there’s evidence to the contrary or not.</p><p>“But what’s the point of it all, Charles. I don’t get it. If Brahms never died that day then why pretend he did?” That same guilty look crosses over his face once more, and I can’t believe he’s only 31. He looks too burdened for someone his age.</p><p>“There’s a lot of talk about that day, if you go into town and spend any time in the pub you’ll quickly find out what I mean.” He laughs darkly. “But no one knows what happened that day except a couple of people, most of them already gone. Everyone else just <em>thinks</em> they know, but they’re wrong.”</p><p>Once again, that didn’t answer my question. I might have to interrogate Malcolm after this, he was kind of a gossip so I’m sure I could get him to spill. This man in front of me was only giving me half the story, and to be honest he smelt a little like booze, so I don’t know what if anything to believe.</p><p>“Thank you, for coming here today. I know it can’t have been easy for you.” I take his hand in mine for a moment to show my gratitude, before letting go.</p><p>We exchange numbers and he makes me promise to call him if anything weird should happen before we part ways. I head back into the house and he walks off in the other direction.</p><p> </p><p>Later that night I’m actually dreading my appointment with my therapist, the last time we talked I know she was starting to suspect that my mental state wasn’t very good. I didn’t blame her, but she doesn’t understand how strange this damn house is, and all the people who’ve ever entered it for that matter. I don’t know what I’ve truly gotten myself into. I sigh and answer her call,<br/>“Hi Rebecca.” I smile, trying to look stable. I feel ridiculous, ugh!</p><p>“Hello Anna,” she’s smirking, feeling amused at my plastered on smile. “You seem creepily happy. What’s going on?”</p><p>I throw my hands up “okay look- I know you must think I’m off my rocker because of our last call, but I swear I can explain.” Kind of. I still had no explanation for the letter going missing, but at least I knew who sent it now and why.</p><p>“This is sure to be interesting, please tell me everything.” She gives a half grin and folds her hands on her desk, waiting for me to go in to another one of my long tirades about this house.</p><p>“Okay, the letter I got <em>was</em> real. I didn’t imagine it, in fact the person who sent it came by the house today. His name is Charles, he was Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire’s nephew. The reason he gave for sending the letter is a little off, but I just needed to know I didn’t imagine the whole thing.” I explain to her.</p><p>“Tell me Anna, why did he scare you with such a cryptic note? I’ll admit I’m a little peeved myself, being the one who’s spent the past few months working tirelessly to convince you that you’re allowed to feel safe where you are now. Work that he managed to undo with just a few words.” I look at her and have nothing to say to that, she was absolutely right, but Charles didn’t know a thing about my backstory. It’s not his fault, my previous issues can’t be put on him.</p><p>“He hasn’t kept in close contact with his Aunt and Uncle all these years, I suppose a little while before they took their own lives, they visited him. When they were with him they must’ve scared him with all their talk about Brahms still being alive. He had no clue about the doll, and he took them at their word. He thought maybe his cousin never died all those years ago and was still alive somehow, in the house. I had to be the one to explain to him, the whole thing with the doll. It didn’t convince him though, that’s what I don’t understand. We left things kind of weird when we parted, he just told me to be careful.” I bit my lip and couldn’t help it, I looked around my room feeling nervous. Of course, she caught that.</p><p>“Do you feel convinced, Anna? Are you confident that you are safe there?” How do I answer that? I don’t want to lie to her, but I don’t want her to think I’m silly.</p><p>“I checked every inch of this house myself, top to bottom, the day that letter arrived. I couldn’t help but remember, the day I thought I saw James...what if I wasn’t hallucinating? What if I did see someone, it just wasn’t James?”</p><p>“Oh Anna, I thought we went through that already. You told me you were feeling better about that incident, remember? You were sick with a high fever, you told me yourself. And do you remember what I told you?” I felt chastised and didn’t want to say it. “I told you that one of the possible side effects from the sleeping pills I prescribed you is ‘confusion.’ You were barely awake, it was nothing more than that. Please, don’t let yourself backslide like this. I wish I could have helped that family, I truly do, but it’s too late for them. Don’t let their delusions become your own. Don’t take that on.” She’s making sense and I nod to her once again.</p><p>“I know, I won’t. I guess I just, I’m not used to living somewhere where I don’t have to constantly be on edge.” I finally admit. I’d become comfortable feeling uncomfortable, it seemed so stupid.</p><p>“When you live in constant turmoil for years, you become used to it. And when you’re finally removed from the situation you’ll create the chaos that you’ve become so accustomed to, because it’s almost become comfortable to you now. But don’t forget, you deserve to feel safe again Anna. You worked so hard to get away from him and this is your reward, let yourself have it. You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.” My bottom lip quivers when she says those last words and I try to bite it to stop myself from crying. We hang up the phone and I want to believe what she’s told me, why is this so hard?</p><p>I did something crazy then, not feeling like myself after the call I just had with Rebecca. I sit down at the kitchen table with my hands folded in front of me and spoke as loud and clear as I could.</p><p>“If you’re really here, and you don’t want me to be afraid of you, then now’s your chance. Show yourself to me and I promise to hear you out, I won’t scream or run away. I’ll stay and listen to you as long as you don’t try to hurt me.”</p><p>I close my eyes and wait tensely, listening for any small sound. After a few minutes of hearing nothing, I open one eye and look around at the empty room. I feel ridiculous, no one is in this house but me. Rebecca was right after all, James really did change the way my mind works in the worst way. Why can’t I allow myself to feel safe and happy? I want to, so badly. I don’t want to keep feeling the way I am. I lean my head down onto the table, closing my eyes again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘What is he saying to her?’ God damnit! I punch the wall with all my pent up frustration from the past few days releasing in one blow. I hear a crunch ‘Ow.’ I don’t feel any better, I’m still mad and now my hand hurts. Plus I broke the wall and I’ll have to spend a bunch of time repairing it before Anna notices. I move one of the paintings over the hole I just made, covering it for now.</p><p>I’m peaking out of the window, trying to look down at them both in the garden and hoping that I somehow have a natural affinity for reading lips. Charlie glances up to right where I’m standing and I let the curtain fall before he can see me. I run my fingers through my hair in frustration and notice my hand is bleeding all over the floor. I run to the bathroom to get a towel and clean it up.</p><p>Why would he come here just to talk to her? Was his stupid letter not enough, the traitor? And just when I’m promised a Malcolm-free weekend, <em>this</em> of all things! Why didn’t I hear him pull up when he arrived here? I think back to it, I was just as surprised as Anna when there was a knock at the door, normally I can hear when someone is coming up the driveway, but not this time. I look back out the front window and see no car parked anywhere, he must have walked. My Aunt and Uncle’s house is too far for that, so is he staying somewhere close by then? </p><p>I make a split second decision and decide to wrap my hand up as quickly as I can, it’s not pretty but it’ll keep it from bleeding all over my coat. I walk to the back door and wait to see him leaving, knowing I’ll need to be close behind to follow him.</p><p>When he finally starts walking the back path of the house, instead of out through the direction of the gate I realize he must live even closer than I expected. I’m walking behind him, but far enough back that he won’t be able to hear my footsteps on the crunching leaves. I notice him taking something shiny out of his jacket pocket a couple times, he sips from it then places it back in his coat. ‘Is he...is he drinking? It’s the middle of the day.’ I frown, wondering what the years have been like for him. I suppose I’m not one to talk, between the 2 of us I’ve surely changed the most.</p><p>We finally arrive to a small house. Close to town, but still relatively secluded. He opens the door and stumbles inside. I shake my head and think to myself ‘he doesn’t even bother to lock his doors, how dangerous.’ </p><p>I decide to wait awhile, and watch. I tell myself that, but the truth is I’m nervous to face him. I don’t want him to tell me something I don’t want to hear. Why did my father say he owed me something as If he might’ve wronged me somehow? We were so close as children, I don’t want to have to hate him. All the anger for my parents now had no where to go, if I heard something I didn’t want to hear I’m afraid of what my reaction would be. I’m not exactly the picture of restraint.</p><p>It’s starting to get dark out, I head to the back door and check the handle. ‘Unlocked as well.’ I suppose he was far enough into the woods that he felt safe here, that’s why. I quietly slip inside, making no noise as I go. I walk around to where the living room is, and see from around the corner that he’s sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand. I walk out into view.</p><p>“Hello Charlie.”</p><p>“What the fuck!” He jumps out of his seat, his drink spilling all over the carpet. “Who the hell are you?” He screams. He scrambles backwards, realizing he has nowhere to go when the back of his calves hit the couch. Uh oh, I’m scaring him. I raise my hands up slowly, to grab the mask from my face and let him see me. Really see me. His eyes widen and he slides back into a sitting position.</p><p>“Brahms?” He asks, sounding like he can barely speak. I nod my head, feeling self conscious about my face is something that I haven’t gotten a chance to get used to. My parents were one thing, they deserved to see my scarred face. I hope they felt bad every single time they had to see me. But Charlie is different, I didn’t want to see any shock or pity on his face. My hand twitches, wanting to put the mask back on already, but leaving it off for now.</p><p>“I’m sorry I scared you” I tell him. “Didn’t you already know I was alive? Why do you look so white” I ask, fearing the answer is that he’s not startled, but truly just afraid of me.</p><p>“They told me but I...I just didn’t know what to believe, I wasn’t sure until now. It seemed so unbelievable, and now you’re here, it doesn’t feel quite real.” He lets out a short laugh, sounding a bit unstable.</p><p>“Can I sit?” I ask him.</p><p>“Yes, go ahead.” He gets up to pour himself another drink then sits back down across from me.</p><p>“Tell me how you’re here.” He says.</p><p>“I followed you, obviously.” I snicker.</p><p>“No Brahms...how are you alive?” Oh, that.</p><p>“Didn’t my parents tell you? They told me you talked.” He pauses at that, sensing the topic about to be brought up.</p><p>“Well, yes but...” he takes a sip of his drink “look, all I know is that when they came over that day I told them something that seemed to upset them, I didn’t know why at the time but when they came back the next day and claimed you were alive and made me promise to help you if you ever came to me...I didn’t know what to think, okay? And I don’t know all of the story, just like I’m sure you don’t know my side of the story from what happened that day.”</p><p>“What do you mean Charlie, I didn’t even see you on my birthday.” He finishes his glass and pours himself some more. How can he drink that much of the stuff? Ugh, I can smell it from here.<br/>“I don’t want you to hate me” he whispers.</p><p>“Please just tell me,” I say. “I need to know.” It’s worse not knowing, my mind will go to all sorts of horrible places.</p><p>He lets out a shaky breath. “That day, I lost you both, and it was my fault both times. I always had a crush on Emily, as you could probably tell. Everyone could, except her of course. But did you know she liked you? I did. She told me, a few times actually. Even though I was older, I felt like I was always competing with you. I was jealous. I convinced Emily it would be funny to prank you on your birthday, just to mess with you a little. It felt nice, having something that just me and her could share, a little joke we were going to play together. She was just supposed to go up there and pretend to be about to slip, to scare you for just a second and then I would pop out and we would laugh at you for freaking out. She was only supposed to pretend to slip, but I was hiding on the other end of the tracks and I watched her fall. I knew you were down there, all alone. I could have come down and helped you, I could have done something, but I was frozen. I just left. I should have been with you when the fire started, I could have helped you, I...”</p><p>He was choking on his sobs now, and I didn’t feel any anger like I thought I would have. He must not know that the fire wasn’t an accident after all, perhaps it’s best I keep it that way. If he knew the truth he might feel even worse. I look around at his home now and see all the empty bottles lying around, he was suffering enough. I could pity myself as much as I wanted but the truth was, I was still alive at least. Emily was the one of us 3 that got the worst of it that day. I go to sit on the other side of the couch and pat his back a little.</p><p>“I don’t hate you Charlie, and neither would she.” He peaks up from where he was curled in on his lap.</p><p>“I don’t get it. How did you turn out so normal? I thought maybe since you’ve been alone for most of your formative years you would’ve turned out a little...weird. Sorry.” I laugh at that.</p><p>“I’ve learned the most about social interaction from books and movies, if it hadn’t been for that I’m sure I would’ve turned out stranger. Don’t get me wrong, it still feels weird talking out loud. Normally I go months on end without even speaking one word.” He flinches at that.</p><p>“Do you think she’ll think I’m not weird too?” I dare to ask. He blinks at me.</p><p>“Who? The girl?” I nod, trying to feign nonchalance. “Are you going to show yourself to her? Are you sure that’s such a good idea Brahms, I mean you could just move in with me. I don’t know if you’d get the reaction you want if you just pop out at her one day and try to introduce yourself.” He grimaces at the thought.</p><p>“I have to try Charlie.”</p><p>He looks at me in silence for a few seconds then puts his hand to his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna try and get her to stay Brahms, please. This is a bad idea...”</p><p>“I just can’t live without her, okay?” I reply defensively.</p><p>He gets to his feet and starts pacing back and forth. “This is going to be disastrous, can’t you foresee that? There’s no good end here, like your imagining. I’m to assume you’ve been watching her from the inside of the house for months, am I right? Women don’t like to have their privacy taken away like that Brahms!” He’s shouting at me and I shrink back in on myself.</p><p>He looks down at me and sighs. “Look, I just don’t want you to get your hopes too high and end up having them dashed, okay? I’m sorry, I’m trying to be honest with you. I mean, it’s not like it would be the end of the world if she left, I could always try and find another person to hire on to the house if you don’t want to leave there.”</p><p>“No, no you don’t understand. She’s irreplaceable, I don’t want her to stay with me to be my nanny.” I twisted my face in disgust at the last word, feeling indignity at the very suggestion.<br/>“She’s not a caretaker to me, or a housekeeper. She’s, she’s...” I struggle for the right words to say. “I need her, okay.” I whisper to him, feeling just how unrealistic I’ve been being, and not wanting to see the look on his face at my words. </p><p>“I’m not entirely delusional,” I say. “I’m just hoping that maybe she might consider being my friend.” I’m fiddling with my bandages and it stings, I hope I didn’t break anything.</p><p>“Brahms, you haven’t even spoken to her. You don’t know anything about her. She’s very good looking, I’ll admit that but-”</p><p>“You don't know what you’re talking about, it’s nothing to do with her looks. And I do know things about her, more than most people do.”</p><p>“Really?” He snickers “how is that?”</p><p>“I’ve read her diary, you don’t have any idea how similar we both are. All these thoughts I’ve had before that I thought I was the only person on this planet to think, she’s thought and felt them too. And more than that, I’m happy when she’s around. I feel lighter. If she leaves, I’ll die.”</p><p>His eyes are wide in shock and he shakes his head at me. “You read her diary man? She’s not gonna forgive you for that.” He laughs and I feel my anger building back up again. “Hey hey,” he says “don’t squeeze your hands into fists like that, you’re hurting yourself.”</p><p>“Take it back.” I say, standing again.</p><p>He puts his hands up in surrender “Okay I take it back, I’m sure she won’t mind at all that you invaded her most personal thoughts and took away her privacy for months” he spits.</p><p>I feel my soul leave my body at that. ‘God, he’s right’ I realize. I wasn’t really thinking long term, was I? All the perverse things I’ve done, she <em>is </em>going to hate me. I fall back into the chair feeling depressed. “Tell me what to do, Charlie. Please help me.”</p><p>He drops all amusement and gets serious. “Look Brahms, you can’t keep hiding in that house. I know it’s not your fault you’re there to begin with, but it can’t keep going on. If you want to have any chance of not scaring that girl away, you better reveal yourself and beg for forgiveness. She does seem like a good person, maybe she will understand. But if she doesn’t, and she decides to leave, you need to let her go. Do you understand?”</p><p>What does he mean by that. “Of course I would let her go, what does that mean?” He looks stern.</p><p>“I want you to picture it Brahms, really think about what it would be like to watch her walk out the door and know you’ll never see her ever again and you’ll be all alone. Then look in my eyes and promise me you can let that happen, if it comes to it.”</p><p>Why did everyone in my life think of me as some sort of monster? Of course I would let her go, I wouldn’t ever try and lock her away. I wouldn’t. I am not a monster, I’m not. Am I?</p><p>“Don’t forget what loving someone means Brahms, it means putting them before yourself even when it’s hard. Even when it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do.” He pats me on the shoulder and I stand up, feeling drained and ready to go before the storm outside gets bad.</p><p>“Thank you Charlie, I heard what you said.”</p><p>He hesitates for a moment then pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes tightly and let him embrace me, trying not to tear up knowing it’s been years since I’ve been hugged by anyone.<br/>“I’ve missed you Brahms.”</p><p>I start back out into the freezing cold, the sun has set and it’s night by now, but I know Anna won’t be asleep yet. If I meet her now will she be so scared she’ll try to leave even in the storm? I don’t want that. I don’t want her to leave at all, but I have to prove to myself and everyone who’s ever doubted me that I’m not the monster they all think I am. I quicken my pace a little, wanting to be home before it starts to snow.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s freezing in this place. I’m walking around wrapped up in a blanket making sure no windows are cracked, how could it be this cold? It is because the house is so big? I climb onto the couch and hide under my blankets for warmth. I take a chance and decide to call Malcolm, I hope he’s not too busy. If he’s out at a bar with all his friends then I’ll just talk to him later. He answers after the second ring.</p><p>“Hiiii Anna.” I laugh a little. Well he’s definitely been drinking, that’s for sure.</p><p>“Hey, are you busy?” I ask. I hear his friends making a bunch of noise in the background.</p><p>“Will you all shut up? Fucks sake. Hold on a sec Anna, I’m just stepping out of the cabin.” I hear a door swing open and then quiet. “What’s up?”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I say.</p><p>“No! You’re not, I promise. In fact, you’re saving me. One of my mates is trying to convince the lot of us to play a game of cards and the loser has to jump into the freezing lake, so I’m glad to be missing that. I’m shite at cards.”</p><p>I laugh. His mood seems so light, maybe I shouldn’t even bring this up. But I need to know, it’s bothering me. “Malcolm, how did Emily die?”</p><p>“...What’s brought this on?” He asks me hesitantly.</p><p>Should I tell him the truth? I can tell him part of it, any way. “Charles Heelshire dropped by today.”</p><p>“Oh.” He doesn’t seem to need any more explanation than that. “He really spoke to you about all that, huh? He never talks about it, I’m a little surprised.”</p><p>“Well, maybe seeing the old house brought it all up again.” I lie. “He didn’t even know about the doll Malcolm, I don’t think he’s been by in years.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he sighs “I never told him, though maybe in hindsight I should have. I can’t stop thinking that if Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire’s family knew more about what was going on, maybe they could have stepped in and helped them.” He replies guilty.</p><p>“Don’t think like that, you couldn’t have known what they were going to do.” I tell him. “I just didn’t quite understand some of the things he was saying when he came by, I guess I just assumed Emily and Brahms died together but he said she was already dead when the fire started...” I wait for him to say something.</p><p>“Brahms killed Emily.” He says. I’m completely silent, then I hear a litany of rowdy male voices trying to get Malcolm back inside.</p><p>“I’m sorry Anna, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk more when I get back, I promise. Good night.”<br/>I hang up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Ugh, that call really gave me the creeps. Why did I even have to ask? I miss New York, where everyone just minded their own businesses. And it’s so damn drafty in this place! I can’t take it. I wrap myself up tight in my blanket cocoon on the couch, cursing myself for not bothering to pack more of my warmer winter pajamas. It looks like a big snow storm is gonna hit by tonight, I think I saw a space heater when I was snooping around in the attic the other day.</p><p>I feel hesitant for a second, then try to get a grip on myself. ‘No one is in this house but me.’ I remind myself, thinking it over and over, like a chant. It’s both reassuring and also a bit scary. I’m truly alone up here, all alone in this big house.</p><p>I shake my head then run to the second floor to climb up into the attic. I pull the string hanging from the ceiling and the small room lights up. There’s not much up here, a few boxes with years written on them. Some old furniture, but no space heater. I give up and sit on one of the chairs in the corner of the dusty space, grabbing one of the boxes to see what’s inside.</p><p>‘Old photo albums?’ I’m too curious not to look, I want to see if I can find an old photo of Brahms and Charles together, it might make me sad to see it but still. I flip through the years and can’t help but notice how happy the family looked, before. It pulls at my heart to wonder what could have been. All their lives could have been so different. I come up to the end of the album, feeling forlorn. </p><p>I see one of the last photos is of a little blonde girl standing next to who I assume is Brahms. I take it closer in my hands. Could this little boy really have killed someone? He looked so shy, even from a still-photo. I chuckled a little at his formal wear, he was so cute. I take the photo out of the laminate and read the back, ‘Brahms and Emily, 8th Birthday’ God, this was the last picture taken of both of them alive. I feel sick, realizing this might have been a mistake looking through someone else’s past like this.</p><p>I go to stick the photo back in the slot and notice there was another picture, hidden behind the one I had in my hands. It was of Mrs. Heelshire, she was maybe in her 30’s and she was smiling, with a little boy whose face was half hidden, tucked into her skirt. She had a little kitten in a box, like it was being gifted as a present. Who was this boy? It don’t think it’s Charles, but it’s hard to tell. I turn it around and there’s nothing written on the back. It was hard to make out the obscured face but the child in the photo looked older than 8, not by much but he was definitely bigger than the boy I saw in the picture before.</p><p>I’m too tired to think right now, I never should have done this in the first place. Family photo albums aren’t for strangers to see. I put the box aside and climb back down the ladder, turning the light off as I go.</p><p> </p><p>What am I doing? I’m 22 and I’m so entangled in this strange family’s life that it’s gonna prematurely age me. When I first arrived here I remember balking at the enormous pay, now I wonder if I’m being paid enough for all the baggage that comes with being the ‘Heelshire nanny.’ It’s not like if I wasn’t here I could be out living my life though, what I wouldn’t give to just be doing something normal. Something that someone my age would be doing on a typical Saturday night. Didn’t everyone deserve that? To be young and stupid and make mistakes, while they were still young. The mistakes I’ve made in my life have all led me here, completely alone a continent away from home. </p><p>I go to get the doll ready for bed, going through the same nightly routine as always had become second nature to me by now. When I’m going through the motions I hear the doorbell ring. I look at the clock on the wall and feel a little bit scared. Did someone’s car break down on the road in the storm?</p><p>I pull a sweater on over my body and walk to the door, I swing it open and see James. Standing right there, a foot in front of me. I quickly slam the door shut but he’s faster, he wedges his foot in the way and slams the doorframe back open. ‘No, this isn’t real. No no no.’ I try to slowly back up away from him to reach my phone and my foot catches on the rug, I stumble backwards onto the cold floor.</p><p>“You were harder to find than I ever could’ve imagined, my little Anna banana. Were you that determined to be rid of me?” He crouches down in front of me and hoists me up til I’m standing again, pinned between him and the wall.</p><p>I try to squirm away. I need to get to my phone, now. He puts his hands on my hips and trails his ice cold hands all up my body, to painfully cup my face and force me to look in his eyes.</p><p>“You were worth all the trouble finding you though, seeing you now I can’t believe how much I missed you.” He tries to hug me and I feel my body go limp.</p><p>He’s caging my body in his and gripping me too tightly. He gnashes his mouth against mine and lets out all the frustration of looking for me these past few months.</p><p>“How did you find me?” I ask him once he pulls away. I need to distract him, if I’m gonna have any chance to get away. I know this house top to bottom by now, all I have to do is run and find a place to hide until I can get to a phone.</p><p>“Why are you so surprised? I told you I would, remember? All I had to do was ask for a little favor, that’s all.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” I ask.</p><p>“You really want to know? Okay. Well, on the date of your brother’s death I decided to stop by his grave, I’d been looking for you for weeks by then and figured that would be my best shot. You haven’t missed visiting his grave once, until this year. I waited all day and just as I was readying myself to leave, I noticed the flowers sitting there. 10 of them, fresh too. I decided to take a little look at the name of the shop they came from, and from there it was easy. It’s funny, money will get you anything in this day and age. I paid the shop owner to give me the phone number that placed the order and then gave that number to one of my cop friends. I’ll admit I was a tad shocked when they traced it to some nowhere little town in England. Did you really need to go so far away from me? Well, anyways I came the second I knew where to find you, and here I am, with you again.” </p><p>He was petting my hair away from my face now, too roughly, and stroking his fingers along my throat possessively. “Just like I told you I’d be, just like I always will be. Didn’t you miss me at all?” He asks me, and the genuine look on his face as he asks the absurd question snaps something in me.</p><p>All the fear I felt melts away in an instant, replaced with pure hatred.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What did you just say?” He asks me.</p><p>“I said no! I didn’t miss you. In fact, every moment away from you is worth any possible punishment you can dole out. For the first time in the past 6 years, I’ve felt what it’s like to be away from you, and it felt so fucking good.” I smile and tell him. “No amount of fear will ever get me to stay with you, James. I was a teenager when you manipulated your way into my life, and now that I realize exactly what you are, I could never love you. No one could, you’re a <em>monster</em>.” I spit at him.</p><p>His eyes flash, and I see that look. The look that means he’s not present anymore. “I’ll show you a monster.” </p><p>Both his hands shoot up and start to squeeze my throat, and the pressure was increasing every second. I was about to lose all air, I prepared myself by gasping in all I could while I could still breathe. I closed my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see that possessed, glassy look that he gets in his eyes when he’s this angry. Like he’s not even human.</p><p>He leans down into my ear and asks “oh Anna, don’t you feel how much I love you?” I feel the pressure come close to breaking my throat and I let out a small pathetic noise. My vision was going spotty, I was about to lose consciousness. He leans down and kisses me gently, in juxtaposition to what he was doing with his hands. That’s when I hear a loud crack.</p><p>I don’t understand, what on me just broke? It can’t have been my throat that made such a snap, could it? I wait for the sudden surge of blinding pain to catch up to me, but no. In fact, I feel his hands slowly slip away from around my neck.</p><p>I cough, and tears stream down my face. I open my eyes and look up to see James’ head turned to the side, what is he turning back to look at? But when my eyes glance down, I see his body is still completely facing me. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. I look up again and notice now, his head is bent in a disgusting, sick way compared to the position of his torso and someone’s fingers are gripping either side of his face and neck.</p><p>He slumps down to the ground in a heap. Standing right behind him, with his hands raised out and shaking with rage is a man in a mask. He’s looking me in my eyes with such fierceness. His breathing is heavy and his eyes are alight. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his. I know if I look down I’ll see James’ dead body lying at my feet, his neck snapped.</p><p>“...Brahms?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That’s who you are, isn’t it?” I choke out, struggling to speak.</p><p>I was still standing pressed up against the wall, as far away from the man in front of me as was physically possible. I concentrated on my breathing, still gasping for the air I’d been deprived. He isn’t answering me, and I don’t like the way he’s looking at me so intensely. ‘Does he not talk?’ I wonder. I look him over, top to bottom. He’s tall, extraordinarily so, and clearly strong enough to snap a neck like a pencil. And he happens to be standing between me and the front door, my only escape. He’s intimidating enough as it is, even without the eerie mask he was wearing.</p><p>I squeeze my eyes shut, I just want this all to be another bad dream. This person standing, living and breathing right in front of my eyes clearly had never died. So he actually was here the whole entire time, I felt sick. I had so many little signs that I was never alone here, but I just chose to pretend nothing was happening, that nothing was wrong. Just like I always do. Charles even warned me, but I once again ignored my own instincts, not wanting to believe a story so crazy could be true. And look now at where it’s gotten me. I concentrate on slowing down my racing thoughts before I really am sick, and we both just stand in tense silence.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He finally speaks.</p><p>He’s as out of breath as I am. His voice is soft and reassuring though, in contrast with the rest of him. I look up at him again, wanting so badly to see a good person when I look in his eyes. Someone who was maybe just a victim of circumstances, it sounds like he was only 8 when this all started after all. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to feel like this, this sickening fear spreading throughout me. So that this nightmare would be over, because I’ve had just about as much as I can take tonight. I’m so tired, I don’t want to have to keep being afraid for my life.</p><p>I still can’t see his face but his hair is in a wind blown disarray, and wet with melting snow. I notice his hand is dripping with blood onto the wooden floors, the skin of the knuckles all ripped and torn. That’s usually the kind of injury someone would sustain while hurting someone else. If he wasn’t here then what was he out doing in the night that he would need to wear a mask for? Nothing good. I go cold and feel silent tears spilling down my face to my neck.</p><p>“Anna,” he breathes softly.</p><p>Something about the fact that this stranger who I’ve never met just spoke my name so intimately snaps me back to my senses. I can’t let fear make me freeze up again. As much as I want to believe I’m not in any danger, I have to look at the facts. No more pretending everything will be okay when it clearly wasn’t, he just murdered someone in front of me. He had no idea who James even was, or why he was here. I can placate myself all I want by thinking he killed him to save me, but what if he just didn’t like that someone else was in the house against the rules? There were certainly less dramatic ways he could have stopped James from hurting me, but he chose to kill him. And he clearly had no qualms with stalking me for months. All my missing things, all the noises I heard, it was all him.</p><p>I look to his hands as he hesitantly brings them up to trace my aching throat, I wince at the unwelcome touch and he drops them back at his sides. I want to move, every cell in my body is urging me to go. I try to take a step forward and my foot hits-</p><p>I look down at James’ body lied out on the cold floor and so many moments pass through my head. I see him laughing, smiling, crying. Now his face was completely emptied of everything I’d ever seen on it before, nothing left but a endless, blank stare. I had wanted him dead, hadn’t I? I’ve thought of it a thousand times before. Everything is his fault. The whole reason I’m standing here now in the middle of nowhere, in a strange country and entangled in what is perhaps, the most absolutely insane family secret to ever exist. At the mercy of this man whose own parents and cousin clearly feared him, and now what am I supposed to do? I hated him, I am glad he’s dead. I start to cry even harder. Cry like how a little kid might, with no restraint at all. I hate him. I hate him. God, I want to only feel hate for him.</p><p>My chin was titled up by cold, trembling hands. “It’s okay, shh.” Is he trying to comfort me? If so, he clearly doesn’t know how. You never shush a person in the middle of a breakdown. “You’re in shock, that’s all” he says.</p><p>His voice was shaking worse by the second, what the hell is he so scared of? He wasn’t the one who was almost strangled to death tonight. A few more moments pass and I’m almost hyperventilating, I can’t manage to calm down. The reality of my situation is finally hitting me fully. I hide my face in my hands to try and stifle my cries.</p><p>His hands start fluttering all over my standing form, not knowing where to land to comfort me. He settles with patting my shoulders and if I wasn’t so upset, the awkwardness of it probably would’ve made me laugh. I wipe away my tears and look up at him.</p><p>“Um, I don’t know how to help you.” His voice was deep and sounded sincere, but his body language is what was scaring me. He’s getting too close. Not more than a few inches from me now, and he kept leaning closer until his body was caging me in. Up against him and the wall, just like James had done. I felt his masked forehead press against the top of my head. His body was leaning heavily against mine, practically sagging against me, he was so big it was kind of crushing me. Is this supposed to be a hug? I feel so taken aback that I actually stop crying. I just stand there lifelessly, and wait. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around me in a tight hold then, it was firm and ungiving, but not painful. His breathing slowed down after a little while and I managed to match my breathing to his own, using it to calm myself down. A few minutes passed, but he still doesn’t release me.</p><p>I’m not in any immediate danger from him, I don’t think. At least, I don’t think he’s planning on killing me so soon. But I can’t help but think of worse things. He clearly has no concept of personal space, or respecting boundaries. ‘Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care?’ I almost shudder, but stop myself in time. I wonder what he’s thinking of at this exact moment. At least I don’t feel anything hard pressed up against me right now. I hate to even think so cynically, but honestly, who could lure a stranger into their home like this and have anything <em>but</em> bad intentions? He obviously didn’t really have any need for hiring a nanny. The doll was clearly a ruse, so what was the point of it all? What am I here for...</p><p>The truth is, I have no real clue what he’ll do to me. His own mother apologized to me before she left me with him, what was she trying to tell me by that? Charles told me he didn’t think that if his cousin was still alive, he would’ve turned out all that well-adjusted. Who would, I suppose, living so isolated for years and years. But he even went as far as to imply something else.</p><p>Either way, it’s not safe alone with him in this house. I have to get out of here, but I’ll need to be smart about how I do it.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>‘I almost didn’t make it back in time. God, I almost didn’t make it back in time.’ I keep thinking to myself, over and over while hugging her tightly. She’s right here with me, alive and breathing. But I can’t stop picturing what I might have walked in upon if I had arrived home only a few minutes later. How wasn’t I here the one time she needed me to be?</p><p>I wish I could have killed that disgusting man in a more creative way, taking my time. But he was choking the life from her. I suppose I had no choice but to make it quick. Ugh, an almost painless death was certainly more than he deserved.</p><p>I’m so out of breath from running all the way back here, only thinking to try and get indoors quickly before the blizzard got worse. Thank god I had though. I can hardly breathe with this mask on, I nuzzle my cheek into the top of her head and try to calm down. I feel so exhausted, I just need to stay like this for a moment. My body unthinkingly leans further into her warmth, she feels so good after the freezing cold outside. At least she’s safe now, in my arms.</p><p>“You’re heavy” She squeaks out, breaking through my peaceful calm. I almost chuckle, I try not to focus on how her voice struggles to get out her words. Instead of saying anything, I nod my head where it rests against hers and squeeze tighter. I can’t seem to manage to speak. Having her so close, actually hearing her voice speak to me, feels so surreal. I pat her head, a silent acknowledgement to show her I don’t mean her any harm. I’ll get off of her in just a minute, as soon as I regain my strength. She flinches though, and I drop my hands and take a step back to look at her face. </p><p>Her eyes are still as wide and full of just as much fear as when she was being strangled, I try not to let that hurt my feelings. Of course she would be afraid of me, I just snapped someone’s neck in front of her. This is not how I would’ve chosen for us to first meet. She rubs her own fingers lightly against her jugular and groans in pain.</p><p>“Are you okay?” I softly ask her.</p><p>“Are you?” She rasps out, pointing to the damaged hand dangling at my side. I’d forgotten. I look down and see all the blood I let drip onto floor. ‘Oops.’ I hadn’t been thinking about my injury at all when I grabbed him, I just saw red and I guess all my adrenaline meant I didn’t feel the pain when the wound reopened. Was she worried about me? I look into her eyes. Her pupils are blown wide and she’s still shaking slightly, she’s had a rough night.</p><p>Her legs start to wobble a little and I gently grab her arms to keep her upright. That’s when she snaps and says quickly “I want to go up to my room now, please.” She framed it as a question, but why? She doesn’t need to ask me that. I look down again at her shaking knees and think ‘Oh, I see.’ She must be telling me because she needs my help to get upstairs.</p><p>“Okay.” I say, before sweeping her legs off the floor and up in my arms into a bridle carry. She whimpered at the sudden movement but said nothing as I took her up the flight of stairs and into her bedroom. I gently laid her into the bed and turned to leave the room, knowing she’ll feel better tomorrow if she can just get some rest.</p><p>“Wait.” She says, before I can move any further to the door. I turn back to face her and she bites her lip. “Let me wrap your hand properly?” Her sentence lilted up at the end in question. She waited patiently for me to say something.</p><p>“...Sure” I replied softly, feeling warmth spread throughout me from her unexpected concern. She got up out of her bed and led me into the bathroom with her. I sat at the edge of the tub and our height difference made it so she could remain standing and still be level to help me. She grabs the first aid kit from under the sink and I hold my hand out in front of me. She takes it in hers and quickly gets to cleaning and wrapping my now swollen knuckles up tightly, with care. My throat feels tight as I watch her work, I haven’t had someone bandage me up like this since I was a little kid. She glances up to my face quickly and when our eyes meet her eyes anxiously dart to the medicine cabinet.</p><p>She bites her lip. “I should really give you some Tylenol for the pain and swelling, here-” she turns her back to me and grabs the little bottle from behind the mirror. The bottle I know to contain not Tylenol, but her sleeping pills. A barrage of pain hits me then as I realize. ‘She wasn’t concerned at all, she was just trying to drug me.’ I shouldn’t let it sting me this much but it does. Being unknowingly given pills drudges up some past issues I’d rather not have to be reminded of. </p><p>I grit my teeth as she turns back around with 2 of the pills in hand, her eyes wide and innocently waiting for me to take them. I try to null the anger in my own eyes to match her innocent gaze. ‘She must not realize I’ve been watching her then, so she has no clue I know.’ My good luck. I almost felt bad as I threw her own words back at her.</p><p>“You’re hurt too, you take one.” Her face fell slightly.</p><p>“This?” She pointed to her neck. “Oh no, I’m fine. I’ve had much worse. He wasn’t really squeezing that hard, he was just trying to scare me. I don’t feel anything, really.” That’s a lie, he was choking the life from her. She also happens to babble when she’s nervous, now fiddling with the bottle in her hands.</p><p>“I insist.” I say sternly, as I grab one of the pills from her palm and walk to the sink to fill a glass with water. I turn to her and with one of the pills in between my fingers, I slip it slowly in between her lips until it’s popped in her mouth and hand her the water to wash it down. She defeatedly swallows.</p><p>“Okay, now you.” She starts, offering the remaining pill back to me. </p><p>I tilt my head to the side. “No thank you, Anna.” I start to walk out of the room. I turn to face her “I’m not tired” I say, and shut the door behind me. I walk to the vase sitting in the hall that has the room’s key hidden inside it, I take it out and use it to lock the door from the outside.</p><p>I felt bad immediately, but it had to be done. I don’t want her to have to deal with what needs to be done next, she should sleep and when she wakes that disgusting waste of space will be completely gone, from this home and from her life for good. I walk down the stairs and to the kitchen to grab the phone. I dial in the number and wait while it rings.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Charlie, I need your help.”</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>‘How did he know?’ I fall backwards onto my bed, feeling the panic in my chest rising again. ‘He knew what my pills were, I don’t understand’ I think, feeling frustrated and tricked. I was supposed to be the one with the upper hand, god damnit! How did it end up like this? I’ve only gotten myself worse off than I was before. I managed to piss him off <em>and </em>get myself drugged, it literally couldn’t get any worse.</p><p>I try not to think my next pathetic thought as I lay there, feeling hopeless, but it’s no use. ‘I want my mom’ I start to sniffle. When you have a bad relationship with a parent you come to learn that all the moments in life that you need them never really go away, you just learn to live with the fact that they aren’t coming to help you. I curl in on myself and rest my head on my knees. If I could talk to her now she would probably tell me to suck it up and stay here with him just because he had a house and money, I laughed. But I won’t ever let myself be ‘kept’ like a pet. Not again.</p><p>The bad decision making part of my brain was urging me to still try and escape now, even though I knew it would be a mistake. The sleeping pill would pull me under soon, I already felt the heavy feeling beginning to spread throughout my limbs. I try to rise up from the bed and wobble back down. ‘No!’ I think. If I fall asleep like this, I don’t know what I could wake up to. I could be...tied up for all I know. I shiver, I can’t stay here with him. His own parents did the unthinkable just to get away from this house and him, how would I fare any better? Not to mention whatever happened to all the ‘nannies’ before me. Who knows what plans he has for me, I need to at least try and get help. I look out my window into the snowy night. It’s coming down pretty hard, all I see is white. I can’t run while the weather’s this bad, but if I could just get to a phone. I quietly attempt to turn the doorknob to my room and realize I’ve been locked in.</p><p>‘It’s over,’ I realized. ‘I’m done for.’ I’ll end up dead or worse. I survived James just for this to be my fate? No no no that can’t be, I won’t let it. I try to think, I need to be cleverer than him. I can’t be stronger, so I’ll have to use my mind. He knew what my pills were, he’s been here this whole time. But where? I had no idea. I scoured every inch of this god forsaken place for anywhere someone could be hiding, and found nothing. But that can’t be right, could it be more complicated than that? </p><p>He’s obviously been in my room before, I must have truly seen him that day when I saw the figure of a man hastily exiting. My mind wanders back to a moment about a month ago now, something so strange I just passed it off as nothing. I awoke in the middle of the night and saw the wall in front of my bed move, actually move. I thought my eyes were just playing tricks on me and went right back to bed. But now, I wonder. </p><p>I walk over to the same wall now and start to feel around, after a few minutes of working I manage to move something just right. One of the panels in the wall slides to the side, revealing a passage in the inside of the walls, large enough to walk through. Ha! This is it.</p><p>I’m starting to feel a tad weightless, which isn’t a good sign. I have to hurry, I quickly step in and start walking, to where I don’t know. Maybe if there was a way in, I could find the way out and escape my locked room without him knowing. My feet take me forward on and on like a maze, until I finally see a light up ahead.</p><p>I step out into a small room, one I haven’t ever seen before. I look around at all the different things, it’s messy and cluttered. My head is spinning so much, but I can’t let myself fall asleep. I’m in Brahms’ bedroom, I have to be. This is where he’s been hiding all this time in the house unnoticed. I stumble forward to where the light I had seen was lit, a small lamp on a desk. I open up the drawer, hoping there might be an extra key to my room inside. I open the desk and do find a key, but it’s far too small to go in a doorknob and my heart sinks in my chest. There are 2 letters inside with his name on them as well, I grab the first one I see and open it. I’m seeing double from my drowsiness and can barely read it, but once I realize what it is, I force my eyes to focus.</p><p>“The Heelshires left a note...” I whisper to myself. I read it all the way through before I stop at a sentence, ‘The girl is yours now, to love and care for.’ Oh god, I’m gonna throw up. They were talking about me, this is why they hired me. What right did they have? How dare they. I was right to be afraid, they’re all fucking insane! I have to get out of here. </p><p>Staying in this room won’t help me to escape, I’ll have better luck elsewhere. Besides, I feel seconds away from passing out and after the implication on that letter this is the last place I want to sleep. I try to put everything back exactly as it was. I turn to take one last look upon the room before I leave and I feel a bit of sadness for him, despite everything. This place seems so dark and lonely. Looking around the room I notice there’s a lot of drawings on the wall, and tools lying all around meant for making things. Could a monster really spend their free time sketching pretty flowers and making crafts? I shake my head before I remember I need to be worrying about myself, not anyone else.</p><p>I head back to my room and once there I move the panel back in it’s place before practically floating to my bed. I rest my head on my pillow and stare numbly at the ceiling. What am I gonna do now? I worked so hard to try and start over and here I am, right in the clutches of another crazy man somehow. Was I cursed? </p><p>Now I think I have to do something I really don’t want to have to do to get out of here. Something perhaps cruel. I try not to, but I can’t help feeling bad for him. The way his parents spoke of me like I was property they bought for him in that letter, is it any wonder he’s turned out this way? Who has he ever had to guide him, but them? I sigh. I’m not a fool, I noticed how close he wanted to be to me earlier. If I want to get out of here I’ll have to manipulate the fact that he’s so clearly desperate for human affection, so desperate that it might make him drop his guard long enough for me to be able to escape.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry for getting you involved in this Charlie, I really am. I would have taken care of it myself, it’s just...”</p><p>“You didn’t want to have to do it alone?” He asks. I almost laugh at that, I was used to doing everything alone, that wasn’t it.</p><p>“No um, it’s just that the ground is too frozen for me to bury him so we need to get rid of him elsewhere, and being as only one of us has our license...”</p><p>“Oh” he replies, genuinely shocked. “Suppose I hadn’t even thought of that,” then he laughs. “By the way, I don’t <em>exactly</em> have my license. The bastards took it, but lucky for you cousin I’m still an excellent driver. I’ll have to be for us to drive in that shit storm.” He nods to the outside, where the blizzard is picking up and only getting worse.</p><p>“Um, I’m afraid to ask who the ‘bastards’ are and why they took your license, but-“ I admit “it’s also nice to not have to do this alone. To be honest I’ve been doing everything by myself for so long that I almost didn’t call you, but I’m glad that you’re here. When I told you what I needed help with, I didn’t think you would come...”</p><p>His mood gets somber. “Yeah well, ya know this is not what I pictured when I promised your father I’d help you if you ever needed anything, I’m a bit out of my depth here but after hearing what you've told me about what kind of guy he was,” he gestures to the body wrapped up in the carpet before we carry it to the car. “it’s hard to feel much sympathy for the bloke.”</p><p>That’s an understatement from my end. “I can’t stop thinking about what would've happened if I didn’t get here in time.” I finally say out loud. “She’s so tiny, she had absolutely no chance to be able to fight back. She would have died, I know it’s wrong of me to say but I don’t feel even close to bad for him. I wish I could bring him back to kill him again.”</p><p>I look over at Charlie, expecting to see fear painted on his face, but he just places his hand on my shoulder and says “I know buddy, I understand.”</p><p>I huff in relief because I know he truly means it. “Thank you” I tell him. We both fall into a concentrated silence then, and get to work as we load the body into the boot of the car.</p><p>“You know Brahms, you’re lucky this isn’t one of those fancy new rental cars. I suppose all the local dealerships are too old school for all that, thank god too cus you would've been fucked otherwise.”</p><p>I’m not following at all. “What do you mean?” I ask him.</p><p>“Well, most cars these days that people rent from places have tracking devices in them. If you hadn’t called me and just tried to take care of it yourself, you could have been in deep shit.” His expression turns solemn.</p><p>I’m still stuck on the fact that people put tracking devices on cars. “I’m almost afraid to ask any more but, there aren’t tracking devices on people nowadays are there?” How grim.</p><p>He chuckles, “not really, it’s complicated. People’s phones have tracking devices in them, but not the people themselves. Wonder if that’s how Anna’s ex ended up finding her here tonight.” He frowns.</p><p>“Hm, maybe. I heard all her phone conversations and she never gave anything away that could have led him to her otherwise.”</p><p>He glances away from the road to look at me disapprovingly.</p><p>“I already know what you’re thinking, you don’t have to say it” I tell him. Yes, I know all of the things I did were creepy and she wouldn’t like them, I don’t need to be reminded. I felt like enough of a menace as it is, after locking her in like that.</p><p>“Okay, I won’t. I am curious though...about her reaction.” He didn’t need to clarify any more than that, what else could he possibly be referring to.</p><p>I sigh. “She didn’t take it well obviously, how could she have? Even though I know her so well, I’m just a stranger to her. A stranger who’s been living in the same house as her and who just killed someone in front of her. She tried to drug me, before I called you.”</p><p>He chuckled again. “Clever girl, it didn’t work I presume.”</p><p>“No obviously not, I think I scared her more though. I didn’t mean to, I just fucked it all up. I locked her in her room before we left.” I feel even guiltier saying it out loud.</p><p>“That sounds like the opposite of what we discussed earlier today, man.” The disappointment is heavy in his tone and it’s making me overly defensive.</p><p>“What choice did I have?! Should I have let her watch us load her ex fiancé’s body into a car? Or worse, should I have let her try and leave by herself in the middle of the night in a storm and have her crash because even the <em>thought</em> of driving again makes her throw up? I didn’t have any good options, Charlie.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “And... she made me mad. I didn’t think it through, what I was doing.”</p><p>“She only tried to drug you because you scared her first, Brahms. Why are you the one who gets to be mad? I’d wager her night is going worse than yours is,” he tries to reason.</p><p>I tear my hands through my hair and try to calm down. “I don’t like people trying to slip me pills when I don’t know” I tell him, my voice too loud for the little car we’re both in.</p><p>“Oh” he says. “Did aunt and uncle...” his voice trails off, probably regretting he asked.</p><p>“Yes. And I didn’t know, not until they just stopped putting them in my food one day. I guess whatever they were giving me didn’t have the effect they wanted.” I zone out for a moment, thinking back on those few foggy months of feeling completely numb and like I wasn’t even real. And the terror of not knowing why I was feeling that way made it all the worse. “I spent weeks afterwards being sicker than I ever have before. You’re not supposed to just stop giving someone pills cold turkey all of a sudden, they didn’t care though. They wouldn’t even admit they’d done anything, not even when I begged them. I still feel ill remembering what it felt like,” I shuddered.</p><p>The despair must be evident in my voice because Charlie doesn’t admonish me further, he just sighs and lets me think in silence for awhile. I appreciate it, after some time he turns on the radio to a station that’s playing some of the old songs we used to listen to together when we were kids.</p><p>“David Bowie died ya know,” he says after awhile. “Don’t.” I tell him, “I’m already in a bad enough mood, don’t tell me about all the people I don’t know have died.” He laughs and we keep on driving, until we finally reach our destination. A cliff overlooking the sea.</p><p>We both get out of the car and head to the back to get everything ready. We position the dead body sitting upright in the drivers seat then place the car in drive, Charlie puts a big slab of ice he grabbed right on the gas peddle and shuts the door. We watch as it slowly rolls off the cliff down into the sea below.</p><p>He shrugs. “It’s not the worst plan I suppose, no trace of him or the car should wash up. And even if it does, theres nothing tying you to the crime. All the evidence will wash away.”</p><p>“I don’t care about me, I just don’t want any of this getting back to Anna. She deserves to live her life in peace, I hope she never has to even hear about him again.” Charlie nods in agreement. We walk to the nearby train station and purchase our tickets that’ll bring us both back into town, we have to wait awhile for the next train to come and I sit anxiously. I just want to get back to check on her. I shouldn’t have locked her in that room, she must be scared.</p><p>After the train drops us off, we’re still too far away to both just walk home so Charlie calls someone to come get us. “Charlie, it’s freezing” I’m rubbing my hands together for warmth and my teeth are violently chattering. “How much longer til your friend gets here?” I ask him. </p><p>“My friend?” He says.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever his name was. Andover or something,” he almost chokes on his laugh.</p><p>“Brahms, I said I’d call <em>an Uber</em>. Now calm down, it’s late and the roads are bad. But it shouldn’t be too much longer,” I grimace at him. </p><p>“Eager to get back to your girlfriend, huh?” He playfully elbows me in the side. “Maybe she’ll try and poison you again for breakfast.”</p><p>He laughs at the look on my face and shakes his head at me before lighting a cigarette and offering me a sip from his flask. “It’ll keep you warm,” he offers.</p><p>“No thanks, on second thought it’s not so bad out” I reply.</p><p>Once we’re dropped off close enough back to both our homes that it’s time to part ways, he grabs my sleeve before I go to leave. “Wait, just listen to me for a second. Don’t forget everything I told you before, Brahms. And let me tell you this, just because you aren’t physically harming her, doesn’t mean she’s not gonna be afraid of you. There are more ways than one that a man can intimidate a woman. I know you were angry about the pills, and I understand why, I truly do- but she doesn’t. All she knows is you locked her in a room and left and she has no idea why. Please, just think about things from her perspective before you go in and talk to her. Promise me?”</p><p>I nod my head and put my mask back on. “I promise.” He sighs in relief and wraps his arms around me again. The snow is falling slowly now, it’s no longer a blizzard outside. It’s peaceful and still, but all I want is to go back inside and see her. Even if she’s angry, even if she hates me it’s better than nothing from her at all.</p><p>“I know you are a good man, Brahms. Don’t let your circumstances be an excuse to keep doing bad things. And um, I could come over in the next couple of days maybe. Ya know, if you’d want.”</p><p>I know he’s partly saying that because he wants to check on Anna, but how can I blame him for it. “If you want to make sure I’m not going to keep her locked away, just say that Charlie.” I let out a frustrated breath and shift uncomfortably on my feet. “I understand.”</p><p>“That’s not why. I just thought that if Anna does... you know, leave” ugh, I don’t want to hear this. “I just wouldn’t want you to be alone, that’s all. Being all alone is a terrible feeling. Trust me, I know.” He tells me.</p><p>“Oh.” I hug him back tighter and think to myself that if Anna does go, Charlie will be the only person I’ll have in this world. Who would always help me no matter what I ask of him, my only friend.</p><p>“Thanks then.” My voice is thick with emotion.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I feel hands on my throat, my hands reach for my neck in a panic to try and pry James’ fingers off of me. His hands have always been freezing cold, but the fingers I’ve grabbed are all wrong. They’re warm, and pliant in my grasp instead of roughly throwing me away. When I open my eyes I see it’s not James, it’s Brahms. Feeling disoriented, I realize I’m lying in my bed and wonder how long I was out for. Damn that pill.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I thought if I was light enough I wouldn’t wake you.” After he says that he folds his hands back onto his lap and I see the little jar of Arnica sitting there, he was rubbing some of it onto my neck in my sleep. Now that I’m awake my senses slowly start to return to me and I remember that I have a part to play.</p><p>“Why are you bothering to do that?” I ask him hoarsely.</p><p>He’s clearly confused by my question and doesn’t know what to say. “Um. Did... did you want to do it yourself?”</p><p>“No, I mean why bother helping me to heal if I’m just going to die soon anyways” I spit.</p><p>His eyes widen and he stutters out “what do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you? That’s what happened to all the nannies here before me. That’s why you locked me in this room. So I can’t run away, right?” My lips start to quiver as I speak, and I don’t even have to force these tears out, with the events of the past day they come easily. I rub at my eyes as my face crumples.</p><p>“I’m not going to kill you! Please, I would never hurt you.” His voice is beginning to sound desperate as he goes on. “I swear.”</p><p>“Really?” I ask, my voice sounding vulnerable. ‘That’s right, go ahead and lie. And I’ll let you think that I believe you.’</p><p>“Of course. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m sorry I locked you in here, I just didn’t want you to have to be apart of the clean-up. I didn’t think you should have to see that.”</p><p>I sniffle a little and nod up at him. ‘I’m sure that’s why’ I think angrily to myself.</p><p>“And all the other nannies just quit because they thought the house was haunted, that’s all.” He tries to explain. I let my face fall into a perfect mock of relief.</p><p>“Is that why you tried to drug me?” He asks, “you thought I was going to hurt you?”</p><p>“Yes” I admitted.</p><p>He leans back where he’s seated on the bed, “I don’t want you to be afraid with me” he says. His voice sounded so believable all of a sudden, but I can’t let myself be taken in. Trusting people only leads to getting hurt, I knew that by now.</p><p>‘He’s lying.’ I remind myself. ‘He has to be.’ I wipe the tears off my face and look in his eyes for a few seconds before telling him “you can keep putting that on my neck, if you still want to.”</p><p>He seems pleased, he rubs it between his fingers to warm it up and then light as a feather starts working it gently onto my neck. I don’t let my eyes leave his as he concentrates, when he’s done his eyes return to mine and he looks startled before shyly glancing away.</p><p>“Okay,” he says “all done. I’ll leave you alone now, I haven’t slept yet and I don’t want to bother you. I really didn’t mean to wake you, you should rest more.”</p><p>So he’s tired? Perfect. I grab his wrist in my grip as he goes to turn away. “Wait.” I say, letting a bit of desperation leak into my voice. “Please don’t leave yet, I keep having nightmares and I don’t want to wake up alone again...”</p><p>He looks down at me in my bed with a shocked expression. “Y-you... want me to sleep here?” He stutters out, sounding so surprised.</p><p>“Yes” I reply simply, and let go of his wrist to throw back the covers and scoot over, leaving room next to myself for him to get in. I may not be able to see his face, but his ‘deer in a headlight’ eyes tell me enough about what he must be feeling. I don’t imagine that anyone’s ever asked him to stay the night with them before. ‘Don’t feel bad, don’t feel bad.’ I keep telling myself, over and over.</p><p>“Okay.” He finally says, and he gets in the bed next to me. He still doesn’t take the mask he’s wearing off, but he settles in beside me. I can practically hear his heart thumping away, and his hands won’t stop nervously fidgeting with the blanket.</p><p>‘Is he...afraid of me?’ I think to myself, ‘no, that can’t be.’ Because if that’s true, then I really should feel bad for what I’m doing to him.</p><p>“Brahms?” He’s so deep in thought that my voice actually startles him, making him jump a little.</p><p>“Yes?” He asks, sounding breathless.</p><p>“Um, could you maybe hold me? The only way to stop the night terrors is for someone to snuggle me to them in my sleep. It sounds silly, but it’s the only thing that helps” I admit. That wasn’t a lie actually, but I won’t be the one sleeping so it hardly matters.</p><p>“Please” I whisper after a moment. I hear him take in a small breathe at my request, and instead of saying anything he just turns to cradle me in his arms. Instead of turning my back to him, I turn to face him. I look in his eyes and say “thank you” to him before pulling in closer and nuzzling into his chest. I feel his arms tighten around me and I can feel how fast his heart is beating where I lay.</p><p>I try not to torture myself with the thought that he must not have had someone ever lay on his chest like this before, either. Because if I stop and think about it for even a second, if let myself feel sad for manipulating him like this, then I won’t be able to make it out of here. I stop and remind myself what was said in that letter about me. ‘I don’t belong to anyone.’ </p><p>I twine my fingers through his hair absentmindedly, knowing how sleepy I get whenever someone plays with my hair. He makes a small hum in his throat, he kind of reminds me of a big cat. I want to laugh but stop completely when I glance up into his eyes and see how he’s looking at me. I close my eyes tightly shut and force my mind to go completely blank while I wait for him to fall asleep, ‘don’t think about it.’ I try to force myself, but it’s impossible not to.</p><p>His breathing slowly reaches a steadier rhythm after I lie there still as can be for a few minutes, pretending to have fallen asleep first. I wait a little bit longer, til I’m sure he’s drifted off, then I carefully lift his heavy arm off my body and slip away. I’m tip toeing as quick as possible, not wanting to risk making a single noise that might wake him. Once I’m out of the room and darting down the steps I can’t believe I actually did it. God, in my hurried state I didn’t even think to grab warmer clothes out of my dresser. Well, it’s too late now. No way I’m risking going back just for that.</p><p>I frantically look all around for my phone before realizing he probably took it. There’s the landline, but I don’t have any numbers memorized. Besides, I need to just leave. He could still wake at any second. No point in even bothering to call for the police with the way the roads are. What could I tell them that wouldn’t just sound like some prank call? That the dead little boy I nanny for killed my ex fiancé? Ugh, I’ll be dead by the time they ever bother coming here. Besides, the smallest part of me was afraid that if the town police did arrive here, it might not be to help <em>me.</em> I shudder at the thought, but there’s no way that this family faked the death of an eight year old with no assistance. Assumedly from officers whose jobs would be on the line if the truth ever came to light. I knew all too well what money could buy, who it can buy. No, I was the outsider here. Alone in this small town with no one who I could trust, I’m no one to these people. ‘Not to all of them though’ I thought.</p><p>If I can just make it to Malcolm’s shop, he said he’s coming back Monday morning because he needs to open up the store for the week, that’s only a few hours away. But how can I get there? I look around in the kitchen, on all the counters, daring to hope I might see James’ car keys. Nothing. Please god, let him have left them in the car. My empty stomach lurches at the thought of having to drive in bad weather once again after all these years. Living in New York made it so my phobia went almost unnoticed to everyone around me, until even I barely thought of it anymore. No one drove in the city, so I didn’t seem so weird. But deep down I still felt nauseous at the thought of having to be in the driver’s seat again. ‘Don’t be a coward’ I tell myself.</p><p>I gather up what courage I can muster and head out into the cold night. The snow’s finally stopped falling, I look all around the property but I don’t see a car anywhere. Damn it! How could he have gotten rid of it so fast? I want to scream out, I don’t have time for this. I can’t have come so close to escaping only to just go right back into that house. No, I am <em>not </em>going back. I’ll just have to walk, that’s all.</p><p>I’ll just... Oh god, I feel ice in my veins when I finally realize. ‘I don’t know which way to go’ Shit. When I first arrived here, I was so exhausted from the plane ride I slept the whole drive up until the cab was pulling in the driveway. I have no idea which direction the town is. Panic is seizing me now, making it difficult for me to even move at all. </p><p>I clear my mind completely for a moment and try to take a deep breath. What would Eva tell me to do? Firstly, she would probably call me an idiot for not at least grabbing a pair of gloves before leaving. But then she would say to just suck it up, pick a direction and start walking. That there had to be some houses soon. How far out in the middle of nowhere could we really be? Malcolm drove here practically every day for weeks when I had asked him to, it can’t be so far out.</p><p>I see that the front gate is all chained up, I try to climb it but slip before I can even get started. I quickly abandon the thought and take the back way, the general direction I saw Charles walking off in when he visited yesterday. That will surely be my best bet, I mean it’s not like he just turned into a frog once he reached the tree line and hopped away. There must be some place close enough by if he had decided to walk here at all. The next house I see, I’ll just knock and ask them which direction it is to the grocery store. Damn niceties, I don’t mind pounding on someone’s door and waking them up when it’s literally life or death. Anything’s better than just walking right back into that house, back to who knows what. I trek through the soft, sparkling snow and make my way deeper into the forest.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>‘Mmh, I feel cold’ I think to myself, half asleep. I reach out beside me to pull her closer. My hands grasp nothingness in the dark, just empty space in the bed beside me. I open my eyes and turn on the light, looking around. ‘She’s gone.’</p><p>I glance to the clock and see it’s been about an hour since I last saw the time, when I was drifting off to sleep. The realization hits me, grabbing me by the throat and not letting go. ‘She was just waiting for me to fall asleep so she could leave.’ Of course she was, she must have felt disgusted even having to pretend to want to lay beside me. And I’m an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.</p><p>She’s probably run to Malcolm by now, and I’m sure he’s convinced her to go to the police, if she wasn’t already going to that is. All there is to do now is wait for the police to arrive, I suppose. No point in trying to evade it, what’s the difference between prison or staying here by myself? It’s an eerily similar life, either way. Maybe the prison library will even have newer books for me to read, I sigh resignedly. I get dressed and walk down the stairs. My mind is frayed, looking around at everything in this house one last time and I can’t feel a single fond memory for even a piece of this place that didn’t have something to do with her.</p><p>Charlie was right after all, she <em>was </em>afraid of me. I was just too blind to realize how much. She probably thought of me as a bigger monster than James. I sigh and grab my coat to go sit out on the steps outside and wait for the police cars to show up, it should be any minute. I sit on the cold ground and look up at the stars.</p><p>I look down to the freshly fallen snow then and see Anna’s footprints. But they’re heading in the wrong direction, where was she going? I get up to follow them and see that she not only wasn’t walking in the direction of town, she was heading straight into nothingness for miles in the woods with the path she took. What the hell is she thinking?</p><p>I take off following her tracks. I’ve been running for what feels like forever before I finally see something in the path ahead of me. A little blue blur, off in the distance. It’s the color of her coat, huddled up on the ground. I finally reach her and see she must’ve been walking and tripped over a branch that was hidden in the snow. I wince when I see that she tried to keep going by crawling a few yards before finally giving up and just curling into a ball.</p><p>“What were you thinking?” I ask her, trying to keep any harshness from my voice but failing. “Why did you take this path? You would have frozen to death before you ever reached a thing walking this way!”</p><p>She looks up and tries to answer me but her teeth are chattering too much for me to make out a single word. I sigh, unable to take in the pitiful sight any longer and scoop her up from where she’s huddled.</p><p>She lets out a low groan. “What? Can you walk on your own?” I ask. She looks into my eyes, her face only a few inches from mine and I feel flustered, remembering how close she had been when she curled up beside me in the warm bed. Instead of trying to speak again, she simply shakes her head ‘no’ and I huff. “Well then I’ll have to carry you, won’t I? I’m sorry, I know you don’t want that but you’ll freeze out here.”</p><p>As we’re walking back to the house her hand fists around my jacket and she pulls in closer to me. I shift a bit so I can grab my zipper and pull it down a little so she can huddle closer into my warmth. At least this is something I can do for her, my naturally hot running body temperature has finally come in handy. Her fingers clutch at my sweater and she lets out a breathy moan at the warmth surrounding her as she buries her face into my chest. I feel my heart swell a little and hug her tighter to me.</p><p>The walk home feels so much shorter than the time it took me to find her. When we finally arrive back I walk in and lay her gently on the couch, she must have fallen asleep again sometime on the way back. I feel her hands and realize just how cold she still is and frown to myself.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>My eyes flutter open and I blink away my blurry vision. I’m on the couch in the living room with seemingly every blanket in the house laid upon me. Still, I can’t feel my fingers or toes at all. I clench and unclench my hands to try and get my blood pumping and look to my side when I hear a noise.</p><p>Brahms is kneeling down on his knees in front of the fire place, he has a book of matches and curses under his breath when he fails to light one due to his hands shaking too badly. I look down to the floor and see 3 more discarded matches, but still no fire.</p><p>‘What’s with him?’ I wonder to myself.</p><p>He tries and fails once more, then leans down to the ground til his forehead is touching the floor. “Damnit” he whispers.</p><p>“Do you need help?” I ask him, he jumps at the unexpected sound of my voice. He scoots over to where I am and quietly breathes “yes” in relief.</p><p>I quickly light the fire and stoke the logs. Huddling in front of the warmth with the blankets around my shoulders, I hold my hands out in front of me. He sits near me, but not close to the flames like I am. He’s practically sitting behind me, actually. It’s making me a bit on edge. Plus I’m shielding him from getting any heat, isn’t he as cold as I am after being outside? He was out in the freezing snow just like I was.</p><p>I sit silently staring into the flames for awhile when I realize something. ‘Oh, god.’</p><p>The story of there being a fire must have been true. I just assumed it was a complete fabrication when it turned out he hadn’t really died that day. Didn’t his parents just stage a fire so they could pretend it killed their son? This at least explains why he’s wearing that deranged mask, I’m a little relieved knowing it’s not solely just to strike terror into me. He must have really gotten burnt then...</p><p>I turn around to face him. “Why did you come for me?” I blurt out, surprising us both.</p><p>“What do you mean? You were walking in the wrong direction, there was nobody for miles that way. You would have frozen to death if you kept going.” He says frankly.</p><p>“No, I mean why didn’t you just let me?” I ask. He blinks, seemingly astounded that I would even ask such a thing. “Brahms, I tricked you, I lied then I left. If I had just died out there, then you wouldn’t have to worry about me telling anyone that you’re here. Or that you killed someone.” I mutter the last part.</p><p>“But I would never let you die.” He returns, as if that’s obvious.</p><p>I don’t understand him at all. His words don’t match up with his actions, and I’m more confused than ever. I know I shouldn’t ask him what I’m about to but I can’t take it anymore, I need to know for my own peace of mind.</p><p>“Are you going to try and keep me here?” I ask him. I try to keep my voice steady but I end up sounding as helpless as I feel.</p><p>“No” he answers sadly. “I do want you to stay, but I won’t stop you from leaving.” I want to believe him so badly, my inner turmoil must show on my face because he groans loudly.</p><p>“Why’s everyone always so afraid of me?” He asks quietly to the air, then turns to me. “Please, just tell me what I can do. Tell me what to do to show you I’m not going to hurt you, and I’ll do it!” he says, frustrated.</p><p>He knows I can’t leave right now, the roads are too bad to try again. I don’t even know the damn direction anyways, apparently. I’m stuck here for now, and we both know that.</p><p>“Well you can start by giving me my damn phone back!” I yell at him. If I could just text Eva what’s happening, then I wouldn’t feel so helpless. If he gives me my phone back then I’ll be able to feel a little bit safe again. He looks at me, confused.</p><p>“Huh? I don’t have that thing,” he replies indignantly.</p><p>“What?” I ask. He’s lying, he just doesn’t want me to be able to call for help. I knew it. He must see the pale look come over my face because he puts his hands up quickly in defense.</p><p>“I really don’t. You can use the landline to call it though,” he offers.</p><p>I falter. Before he can stop me, I get up off the floor and start towards the kitchen. Would he know how to turn off a smart phone? I don’t imagine so, but if it doesn’t ring then I’ll have to pretend to try and call it again, and dial my mom’s number instead. That’s the only number I can remember off hand, and it’s better than nothing. Barely, but as long as someone else on the damn planet knows that I need someone to come check on me. My mom will help me if she hears how desperate my voice sounds, right? God I hope. I’ll just quickly tell her to get in contact with Eva and say that I need help in the house I’m in, she had the address still. That will be enough, right?</p><p>Brahms is trailing at my feet, making me even more apprehensive. “You have a very looming presence, do you know that?” I shoot at him before I pick up the phone from the receiver and dial in my own number, already preparing myself for it to not ring. Then, it does. It rings in my ear once, then a moment later I hear my ringtone go off in the living room we were just in. I set the phone down and run back to the room. It’s wedged into the couch cushion I had just been laying on. I quickly dive for it and back away from Brahms when he enters the living room behind me.</p><p>“I’m not going to grab it from you” he sighs, seeming exasperated. I really must have just forgotten it when I was laying here the night before...</p><p>“You’re really not going to hurt me?” I ask, dumbfounded.</p><p>“No, I’m not. I never meant you any harm, I guess I just don’t realize how my actions can come across. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with socializing.” He sits down on the couch in a huff.</p><p>Maybe he really isn’t the monster I built him up in my head to be. So far all he’s really done since I met him has been saving my life. Twice.<br/>But...</p><p>It’s been bothering me more than anything since I found out he was alive, and it might help me make up my mind on him some, one way or the other. Because no matter what else, I couldn’t make sense of the fact that his parents faked his death. What was the reason? Who would ever go to such extremes unless-</p><p>“Brahms, did you kill your friend when you were children?” I don’t say her name, he knows what I’m talking about.</p><p>He looks at me for a very long time before saying “everyone thinks that I did, but no. I didn’t.” I hear the deep sadness in his voice, and I can see the honesty in his eyes. When Charles was here he said that there are a lot of rumors about what happened that day, but that everyone was wrong. Maybe Brahms really is telling the truth.</p><p>I think about how hard it would be, to have your best friend die and everyone you know blame you for it. I sit down on the couch next to him and gently say “Okay, I believe you.” His posture relaxes a little.</p><p>“You said earlier, that you won’t force me but you do want me to stay here. But why? You obviously don’t really need a nanny,” I glance him up and down, making note of the obvious. He was a full grown man, and despite his parents charade he surely knew it. “What for?” I ask him, honestly curious why he wants me here.</p><p>“Yes, I may not be a child in need of a nanny, but look at me! I don’t know how to be an adult either. I didn’t even have enough basic human understanding to realize you were petrified of me. Maybe if you stayed, you could...teach me. I’ll still pay you, and you can leave whenever you want.” I didn’t know what to say to that.</p><p>“Please” he whispered softly. So much raw emotion leaked through in that one word.</p><p>“You want ‘people lessons’? That’s crazy, Brahms. I mean I don’t know, I’m sure you aren’t so terrible at it all that you’d really need <em>my </em>help.” I was never that great with people either to be frank, what right did I have to teach someone else about the world? I’m hardly qualified. “What can I really do?” I ask.</p><p>“I know you were afraid of me before, but only because you told me. I still don’t know why, or what specifically I did. I don’t understand people well, due to obvious reasons. So start with that. Tell me exactly what I did wrong, so I don’t do it again.” He’s so earnest that I can’t help but obey.</p><p>“Okay, um. Well firstly, I was afraid because you killed someone. So easily, too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. You doing that saved my life, but I didn’t know that you wouldn’t just do the same to me if you felt like it.”</p><p>He blinks a few times and nods. “No more murder, okay.” I can’t help but laugh at his joke, morbid as it is. He looks pleased, after I regain my composure I keep going.</p><p>“After that, I suppose it was your whole demeanor in general. All the leaning over me and breathing heavily? You can’t just do that to women without it scaring them, especially strangers. I thought you were trying to intimidate me. Albeit you’re... stature didn’t help things, either. But there’s nothing you can do about that.” I wonder how tall he actually is, thinking back on last night he must be around a foot taller than I am, at least.</p><p>He looks down guiltily and I continue before he can bother trying to speak in his defense. “Lastly and most importantly Brahms, is the fact that you’ve been hiding here this whole time with me. I don’t know if I want to know all the things you’ve done or seen, but I will tell you this- I went down to your room and found that letter.”</p><p>He freezes at that and I go on, “that sealed the deal for me, I was terrified after reading it. Just because your parents said I belong to you doesn’t mean that I do. I need you to know that. You can’t just ‘keep’ people.” I finish in a huff and he seems stuck on something else. “Are you listening?” I ask, annoyed.</p><p>“Did you read the other letter?” He asks me.</p><p>“What? Oh, no. I was dead on my feet, I could barely read the first one without passing out. And don’t you dare bother lecturing me about personal property either, not after all the belongings of mine that have mysteriously disappeared in this house.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Anna. I don’t have any defense for any of the things I’ve done, but I can do better. I can learn to be good.”</p><p>“You really understand everything I’ve just told you?” I ask him.</p><p>“Of course.” He says.</p><p>‘We’ll see about that.’ I think, nodding to myself while silently coming up with my plan, a test to see once and for all if he really can be a ‘good man’ like he’s said.</p><p>“Okay Brahms, I accept your apology. And I won’t tell anyone you’re still alive here. I’ll keep your secret in thanks for saving my life, twice now. But I’m sorry, I can’t stay here with you. As soon as the snow melts, I’m leaving.”</p><p>He nods slowly then stares blankly into the fire, not saying a word.</p><p>I lay my head back on the pillow. ‘If I try to leave and he doesn’t stop me, then I’ll know that he’s safe to be around. It’s the only way I can know for sure, if it’s safe to stay here or not. One way or the other.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m sorry y’all, but I’m erasing the beard from existence. It must be done.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m going over everything that needs to be done in the next few days, all the little ways I can possibly try to get a gauge on where Brahms is at, mentally at least. Living in seclusion for 20 years wouldn’t leave anyone unscathed, I suppose. </p><p>I know the last couple of tumultuous years I spent with James had definitely changed me. And I wasn’t even completely alone, just chained to his side, barred from being around anyone who wasn’t approved by him. So, basically no one. It certainly left it’s mark on me. I still remember the first few times hanging out with Malcolm just us two alone, I felt guilty and paranoid the whole time. Like I was doing something wrong and would later be punished for it. </p><p>The psychological damage Brahms might have from not being allowed to even let anyone know he was alive? I can’t even imagine it. I wish I could get Rebecca’s opinion on how to best help him, where to even start. But, at the end of the day, she’s my therapist. Her first priority will be my well-being, not helping him. She’d probably only urge me to get out of this place as quick as possible. But it’s not that simple anymore, he saved my life. Again. Not a lot of people can understand the feelings of gratitude that harbors, I can’t leave him now unless I absolutely am not safe here. We’ll just have to see.</p><p>My eyes are closed and I hear the crackle of the fire dying down. I slept for a few hours at least, I think. But I must have woken again and now my mind is running through too much to fall back asleep. I’m still laying on the couch, I think Brahms is at the end of it. I stretch my legs, kicking the blanket off of my feet, and I feel someone tuck me back in right away. So he is still here, and he can’t sleep either. I wonder why he doesn’t just go back to his room then? </p><p>Maybe he likes to watch me sleep, and that’s why I caught him leaving my room that morning. Well, I hope that’s <i>all</i> he does. Although, if memory serves... there was the night I felt hands on me, when I thought it was just my sleep paralysis messing with my mind. God, It felt so good, I remember moaning in my sleep. Ugh, if that was him then he must’ve heard the noises I made, how humiliating. But, I don’t particularly remember him putting his hands on me in any perverse way, do I?</p><p>I suppose I can at least get one test out of the way right now. I know he certainly doesn’t have very much self control, at least in the temper department. But hopefully he at least has some semblance of control over his more base desires. I certainly can’t stay here until I know this much for sure. Let’s see...</p><p>I groan, half asleep and slowly pull myself from my horizontal position up to the end of the couch and into his lap. “Cold” I mutter under my breath, and snuggle back into my blankets and close my eyes again, face against his chest. It’s a bit of a drastic measure, but I won’t have an opportunity to see what he’ll do like this again before I try and leave. </p><p>My breathing returns to a slow pace, he surely thinks I’ve fallen back asleep. I wait, and nothing happens. Not until I feel arms squeeze gently around me, and start rubbing circles on my back. It feels kind of nice, but I need to concentrate and regulate my breathing now, because I’m nervously waiting for his hands to wander lower. He never does though, his hands stay affectionately rubbing my back. ‘It feels good’ I can’t help but to think. I feel my face redden, and I’m glad he can’t see me from where I’m nestled onto him right now. </p><p>Well, that’s one more thing I can check off the list. At least he’ll not try and do anything to me in my sleep, if I end up staying here. ‘Nothing I wouldn’t mind, anyway’ I think to myself while grinding a little more of my weight down harder into his lap, baiting him. I smirk to myself when I hear him let out a quiet groan. Within a second he lifts me effortlessly and places a pillow between where I’m seated, and his lap, then places me back in the same spot. I’m actually impressed at his self control, maybe the real pervert between the two of us is me.</p><p>Alright, that’s enough torturing him for one night, he passed my silly little test. I blink and blearily look up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry Brahms. I must’ve been cold in my sleep and sought out your heat. You’re really warm, you know.” He shakes his head and lets out a tense little “it’s fine.” I lean back and straighten out onto the couch, laying down again. I close my eyes and after a few minutes, I do fall back asleep, feeling safe enough to do so.</p><p>My eyes flutter open and I stretch my aching limbs out, but when I do my feet hit something warm and solid. I look towards the end of the couch and see Brahms has my foot in his hand, stopping me just short of kicking him hard in the face. The morning sunlight is leaking through the windows.</p><p>“Oops.” I smirk up at him as he readjusts his mask back properly to his face after I almost knocked it off. “I’m sorry, I forgot I wasn’t in my own bed for a second. Are you hungry?” He nods his head slightly, I wonder when the last time he had something to eat was. I look him up and down and he fidgets nervously in his spot as I analyze him. ‘He’s not been starving, that’s for sure,’ if his big form is any indicator. </p><p>But still, I should cook him something considering he probably doesn’t know how. Before I can even stand for more than a second, I wobble a little. I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve eaten, as well. </p><p>“I’m gonna go take a shower first, then I’ll be back down.” He only continues staring at me, not saying anything. “Brahms, did I climb onto your lap last night or was that a dream?” I’m facing away from him now and my mouth twitches in humor. I just want to get him to speak. To say something, anything really, it’s like he’s gone mute. </p><p>He sputters a little and finally says “I guess you did, yeah. You said you were cold, then went back to your side.” </p><p>Before I walk up the steps I shout back at him “thanks for keeping me warm again.” I smirk and head into my room. He’s so easy to tease, I hope he knows I’m only kidding with him and I’m not laughing at his... inexperience. He just gets flustered so easily, I can’t help myself. And he’s so quiet, it’s like I have to prod to get him to share his thoughts. I let out a loud sigh.</p><p>I walk to the window and look out, the snow looks about a foot deep. It should melt soon enough, with the sun beating down how it is. ‘It’s a good thing Brahms doesn’t know how to use the internet,’ I think ‘or he might try to order a bunch of snow machines and hide them all around the property to keep the weather bad.’ </p><p>I laugh to myself, but the thought of him actually going out of his way to try and keep me from leaving still does worry me a bit. He seems more timid, and frankly harmless the more I interact with him. Other than his intimidating appearance, he mostly just seems like a big softy. </p><p>But If I’m honest with myself, I still have no real idea what’s going on inside his head. I don’t even have his facial expressions to try and go off of. What was he thinking of while he was staring over me all night? It’s certainly not normal, but it doesn’t mean he’s bad. Just reserved, and probably a little shy. Just because I can talk so easily to new people, doesn’t mean everyone has to be that way. I’ll have to try and get him to talk more today, to find out what goes on in his head. </p><p>‘Maybe he’s just not used to having someone to speak to,’ I think to myself, my gut twisting in anguish. God, I hope that’s not true. His parents may be gone now but they were here with him for years. I’d hope that they at least spent their time with him, gave him some modicum of human interaction. No one could be cruel enough to shun their own child completely. Even my own mother who can hardly stand to be around me, still answers my calls from time to time. Even if I sometimes wish she hadn’t, once she gets to talking...</p><p>I turn the water to the hottest setting and stand under the faucet while I let my muscles loosen. I let out a long moan before I begin working my fingers through my hair. I didn’t realize until just now, how cold I’ve been since I was laying in the snow last night, waiting to freeze before Brahms found me. I stay in till the hot water completely runs out. Once I’m done I squeeze the water from my hair and grab a towel before walking back in my room. </p><p>I spot something lying on my bed, ‘what’s this?’ I think absentmindedly. I freeze. Once I realize exactly what it is, and what it means that it’s here, I clench my fists and stare in disbelief. Before I know what I’m doing, I snatch it off the bed and run down the stairs faster than I’d think myself capable of. “Brahms!” I yell.</p><p>I walk into the kitchen in a mad frenzy, he’s standing at the stove seemingly attempting to cook. He turns to face me and I see a second of repentance flash in his eyes before it quickly turns to... to what? To shock? He openly stares at me, not even bothering to speak a defense for what he’s done. I look down and realize I’m still in just a towel and wet from my shower. I feel a second of embarrassment before I think to myself that I’m not the one who should have to feel embarrassed. After what he did?! </p><p>“What the hell is this?” I shout. I throw my diary down on the kitchen counter, with the little sticky note he stuck on the front that reads a simple ‘I’m sorry’ in his elegant script. He flinches at the sound of it hitting the countertop. I glare at him waiting, my rage evident in my eyes.</p><p>“I thought you’d want it back, since you’re leaving.” He speaks quietly and is shrinking in on himself, I pinch the bridge of my nose before I lose myself and let my temper scare him. I have to remember who it is I’m talking to right now, and soften my anger to fit the situation. </p><p>“Want it back?” I scoff “Yes, I surely would. Tell me why you had it.” So much has happened the past few days, I hadn’t realized the extent of what him being here the whole time has meant. All the things I wrote off, I now had to come to terms with the fact that it was all him. I didn’t ever leave my journal in New York. I had brought it with me, but he must’ve taken it soon after I got here. </p><p>“I just wanted to know you,” he sheepishly replies. I count to ten in my head before saying anything to him. </p><p>“This is so humiliating, Brahms.” My anger is all leached out of me momentarily, leaving only shame behind. The fact that he actually read everything inside of there is finally hitting me. All my thoughts I hadn’t ever shared with anyone else before, all those photos...</p><p>“You wanted to know me?” I ask bitterly. “Well, you surely do now. You know me better than anyone else, after reading all that.” </p><p>He must hear the mortification in my voice because he says “be angry, but please don’t be self conscious. I only read it in the first place because it was your thoughts, your memories that I wanted to get to know so desperately.”</p><p>“Why?” He barely knew me, and the only reason he knows me now is sitting on the table in front of us. He was probably laughing at me, while reading all my messed up thoughts.</p><p>“It’s because I felt connected to you from the first time I saw you, I felt how good you were. And I was right.” He takes a few steps forward, quickly closing the distance between us. He towers over me and my breath hitches nervously.</p><p>“And when I read your diary, I felt your thoughts like they were my own, like they were coming from my head. I had to stop reading because it was too much, like looking in a mirror. And I...I don’t know how to explain with my words, ugh.” He curses himself.</p><p>He pulls my hand to his chest and places it over his heart, holding it there. I think he’s trying to explain that my words resonated with him in some way because he could relate. The level of passion in his eyes is, not for the first time, frightening to me. He seems to notice and lets my hand drop from his chest, regretting his sudden boldness.</p><p>“So my thoughts touched you?” I ask.</p><p>“Yes” he breathes in relief, thinking I must understand.</p><p>“Thoughts that I didn’t willingly give, Brahms! You stole them, literally. How would you feel if I could suddenly read your mind?” </p><p>“That’s different,” he replies shyly.</p><p>I laugh humorlessly. “Is it really all that different?” I ask, frustrated that he doesn’t seem to understand. Those thoughts weren’t just private, they were all the rawest moments in my life. All my most painful memories, laid bare. Things my therapist had me write down in the first place because they were all the things I couldn’t even force myself to voice aloud with her. And now he knew them all, I could cry. </p><p>“You can have any of my thoughts that you want, Anna. I’ll give them to you.” He says.</p><p>“Oh really?” I ask in disbelief. “Cus you don’t seem to give me any of your thoughts, Brahms. I never know what you’re thinking, that’s the problem. That’s the whole reason I misunderstood you in the first place and thought you were going to kill me! And besides, it’s not even about that.” I let out in a huff, he’s not getting it.</p><p>“You can ask me though, anything you want. I didn’t think you wanted to know my thoughts...” he says. He’ll never understand at this rate. I close any distance between us and listen to him intake a sharp breath in surprise.</p><p>“Tell me then, Brahms... why do you really want me here? Is it really just to help teach you,” I ask, my finger trailing up his chest to cup around the back of his neck. I pull him down to my height before whispering in his ear “or is it too mortifying for you to speak the real reason out loud?” I ask.</p><p>His ears are blushing as I slowly lean away, the second I release him he spins around to face away from me. Just like I thought, he doesn’t speak. It was a cruel thing to say to him, he’s clearly too shy to admit that he also wants me here because he likes me. And I know that, so why did I have to torture him? I guess I wanted him to feel some of what I was feeling, I wanted him to get it. But now I regret it, all my previous anger deflates from me.</p><p>“Don’t say sorry in a note Brahms, say sorry in person. So I can hear the sincerity in your voice.” I tell him, exasperated. </p><p>He tries to regain his composure, and nods. “I’m sorry I made you feel this way, when I first took it I didn’t ever think about what you would feel if you knew. I thought you never would.” His hands are nervously fiddling in front of his waist, and I don’t look down to save him at least a little embarrassment. I should have known breathing in his ear would have a different effect on him, I need to be more careful.</p><p>“Okay then,” I sigh. His eyes light up as he’s forgiven. “But if you want to know me Brahms, then just ask, like you said I could do with you. That’s the only way you learning these things about me would be meaningful, is if I willingly tell them to you” I breathe. </p><p>I walk back up to my room to get dressed. I think he understands me, but I’m not positive. This task I’ve considered taking on is already proving to be much harder than I could have imagined it. I don’t think he’s naturally bad, but his whole idea of ‘right and wrong’ are totally skewed. He thought because he took it thinking I’d never find out, that made it any better. That it makes it less invasive.</p><p>That does remind me though, I need to call Eva. Because I still don’t know for sure what’ll happen when I try to leave, and I think I may have underestimated Brahms’ fixation on me. It makes sense, I’m the first person he’s had to talk to in years. He probably really does think he likes me, not realizing that he’s just happy to have ‘someone’ around, anyone really. But now I’m even more worried about him letting me leave, when the time comes. I didn’t realize until he said something earlier, that even though I may have only met him a few days ago, he’s technically known me for months now. In his mind, we aren’t strangers at all. Hm, I need to tell Eva something, just in case things go wrong...</p><p>“Eva?” She picks up after the first ring. </p><p>“Hi! I’ve tried calling you a dozen times, what have you been so busy with in your spooky secluded little manor?” She asks me.</p><p>“Eva, something’s happened... look, I need you to keep an open mind with what I’m about to say.” Her eyes widened and an excited look comes over her face.</p><p>“Did you hook up with someone? Is that why you’ve been MIA the past few days??” She grins evilly, “that’s fine, as long as you don’t put down too many roots out there. I don’t want to picture visiting you in ten years, and you have a British accent or something.” She playfully shudders.</p><p>“No you clown, I didn’t hook up with someone. And why would that be such breaking news by the way?” She laughs and I shake my head, trying to return the note of seriousness to the conversation.</p><p>“Look Eva, I need you to do something kind of weird for me. And you can’t ask any questions about it either, but it’s important. Really really important, life or death.” I hesitantly say. Eva was not one for not being told the whole story, this would be hard. Trying to get her to understand that I can’t tell her everything right now, is going to be almost impossible.</p><p>“What’s going on, Anna. Now you’re scaring me.” She says, and I feel bad. I didn’t want to scare her, she’s been through too much already, worrying over me. </p><p>“Everything’s gonna be fine, E. Just listen, if in a couple days from now I don’t FaceTime you and tell you I’m okay, then I need you to call this number-” I give her Malcolm’s phone number and she hastily writes it down. “-and have him come check on me at the house, okay?” </p><p>She looks concerned and I feel the barrage of questions coming. “Are you feeling okay? Have you talked to Rebecca lately?” Oh no. She’s asking about my therapist? This is going worse than I possibly could have imagined it would. She’s probably thinking my paranoia has reached a new level.</p><p>“Eva, this is real and it’s very serious. I just can’t explain it all right now but I need you to trust me and do what I say, please.” Her face softens in its concern.</p><p>“Fine, I will. I just want you to be okay, if you really don’t feel safe where you are then just come home-” her voice starts to wobble. “I didn’t know you were feeling this bad, if you’re this afraid to be alone then just come to me. We can meet up in New York and then fly anywhere, I’ll take some time off work and we can be together. I don’t want you being all alone in that big house if you’re feeling like this...” She continues, looking miserable and I feel like the biggest piece of shit ever for doing this to her. She thinks I’m petrified still waiting for James to find me, if only she knew.</p><p>“Eva, don’t be upset, I promise this isn’t what you think.” I snicker, angry at myself now. “And I didn’t want to scare you, I’m sorry, I did this all wrong. I’ll explain everything soon, I promise. Don’t spend the next few days chewing away at your nails til there’s nothing left, please. I love you, I’ve got to go.”</p><p>“Okay Anna, love you.” She hangs up and the look on her face as she goes makes me feel ill. I know she’s going to spend the next few days with her stomach in a knot now, thanks to me. What if she goes to James’ work again to check on him for me and thinks the worst when she doesn’t find him there? Oh damn! I hadn’t even thought of that, maybe I better move up my plan a little...</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>Anna’s still mad at me, I can just tell. I was going to give back the rest of her things I took later today too, but now I’m too nervous. Maybe if I sneak them back into her room where I found them? Hmm...</p><p>As I’m thinking it over, she walks back through the kitchen and sits down at the table. She’s wearing clothes this time too, to my immense relief. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough in front of her, I want to crawl out of my skin when I think about what happened a few minutes ago. </p><p>“What’s for breakfast?” She asks me, I smile and put a plate down in front of her. I hope I did an okay job, I spent weeks watching her cook all the meals she made, I should have at least picked up some basic skill by now. She takes her first bite of the stack of pancakes and chews it slowly, “Mmm.” She says, and smiles up at me showing her dimples. ‘She’s never smiled that big at me before,’ I think, satisfied. I grin back, even though she can’t see it she must be able to tell I’m pleased. </p><p>“What about you? You surely need to eat a lot,” she points at my body, referring to my large stature I suppose. I shake my head and tell her “mask.” She looks up at my face and I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass.</p><p>“You don’t want me to see your face?” She asks, furrowing her brow. </p><p>‘You’re the one who wouldn’t want to see my face’ I think. I sit down in the seat across from her “I can wait to eat til you’re done,” I assure her. </p><p>“Brahms you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but why do you have that thing?” She points with her fork to my mask. </p><p>“Because I got burnt in a fire,” I say, realizing she might not even know about it yet.</p><p>“No, I know. Charles mentioned something about the fire... I only meant, why did you have that thing already? Did you see other people that you needed to cover your face for before me? Was it the other nannies?” She asks. </p><p>“No, I never let any of them see me. You might not believe me, but I’m usually very good at not being seen or noticed unless I want it.” She’s the only one I constantly made errors with, ironically the only person I actually cared about finding out or not. “I had this here before for, for my parents” I stutter out.</p><p>She blinks in confusion and I can tell she’s struggling whether or not to go on. “But, they already knew what you looked like so... I don’t understand.”</p><p>I sigh. “They didn’t like to see it though. Sometimes when I would talk to them they wouldn’t even look in my direction, so I made the mask and then they looked at me again. They treated me better when I had it on.” </p><p>Understanding lights her eyes and I feel her scrutiny in my bones as she studies over me. “So now you think I wouldn’t want to see your face either, is that it?” She asks, anger leaking back into her words. I shrink back. “I’m not mad at you Brahms, I’m mad at-”</p><p>She straightens in her seat and doesn’t continue. She lets out a huff of breath and says “You’re wrong, though. I do want to see you, if you ever decide to let me. I’d be happy looking at the face of the man who saved my life.” She smiles and touches her hand gently to my forearm before getting up. I feel the skin she had her hand on moments ago raise in goosebumps.</p><p>I wish I didn’t have such an embarrassingly obvious reaction to the simplest of her touches. Even remembering how she nuzzled into my lap last night makes me feel close to bending the fork in my hand. And this morning when she grabbed me to pull me down to her face... the fraction of a second before I realized what she was doing, and that she did not mean at all to kiss me, obviously, was enough to send me over the edge. I need to be less obvious, I can’t have her knowing what a perverted mess I am. I’ll scare her again. </p><p>After she puts a plate of food in front of me, she walks to the sink to clean her plate and do the rest of the dishes. “I won’t turn around,” she yells back, so I lift my mask up and start to eat some of the food in front of me as well. She wouldn’t lie and look back at me, I know that. While I sit there, I can’t help but think to myself ‘why is she talking like she’ll be here for that much longer? She’s leaving soon.’ My heart feels a stabbing pain as I stare at her back. ‘and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing that a monster wouldn’t do, anyway.’</p><p>Once we’re both done in the kitchen I walk to the bathroom and grab the little jar I’m looking for. I head back to the living room and Anna sees what I have in my hands, “oh, I almost forgot.” She groans and sits down on the couch. I sit next to her and unscrew the lid, I start to rub a small amount on my fingers. “I can do that myself, you know. I’m not your patient.” She huffs, but I don’t lend the jar to her. If she wants it, she can grab it from me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she leans her head back baring her throat to me. “Go on, doc” she mutters and I smile contentedly.</p><p>I rub it all along her entire neck and once I’m finished, I wonder how many more times she’ll let me do this for her before she’s gone. I don’t like that she’s hurt, but I don’t mind being the one to help her feel better. </p><p>“It looks better today than it did yesterday,” I say. “Should be healed in no time.” I tell her happily. </p><p>She fiddles with her shirt and asks me “where is he?” I freeze at the unexpected question. </p><p>“I don’t think you wanna know,” I tell her. </p><p>“You’re right, I don’t. But I need to know otherwise my brain will just keep running through all the different things that could have happened to...” She doesn’t want to say the word ‘body’ I stare down at her, wondering if she’ll freak out or not.</p><p>“Is he in the ground?” She whispers.</p><p>“No. He’s in the ocean.” I tell her. She looks up at me and there isn’t any sadness in her eyes, but there is emotion. “What are you thinking?” I say “You said I was allowed to ask,” she lets out a sigh and I wonder if she’s still afraid of me.</p><p>“I’m thinking about his mother and his sister. I know James was bad, and if you read my diary then you surely knew it too. But his mom was like a mother to me, when I didn’t have-” her voice breaks a little and she pauses before going on. “His family felt like mine. His father wasn’t a good man. He took after him very much, in all the worst ways. That’s why I loved his mother and sister so much. I saw a lot of myself in them,” she trails off. </p><p>I know what she’s trying to say. Sounds like the apple didn’t fall very far from the tree, “it’s not your fault he’s dead, he made his own choices.” I tell her. “I killed him, not you.” And I don’t regret it. I don’t voice the last sentiment though, it will only serve to frighten her. She looks up and nods at me, but I can tell my words didn’t placate her.</p><p>“I just don’t like the thought of them not ever knowing what happened to him. They’ll never be able to get any closure, they’ll always be wondering where he is.” I refuse to feel guilty for any part of what happened to that man, but I’m not entirely heartless, I do feel some sympathy for his family. If what Anna says is true then it’s not his mother’s fault her son turned out so terribly. </p><p>After a while she speaks, “I’m leaving tomorrow, Brahms.” </p><p>I feel my panic begin to rise in a way it never has before. “B-but you said you weren’t going till after the snow melted” I try to reason, to find any way to stall her. “And It might look suspicious if you return to America right when he goes missing, won’t it?” I hear the frantic tone in my own voice and try to quell it.</p><p>“The roads will be good enough. And I know that, but I’ll just have to take that chance. It sounds like there’s not any real evidence left behind anyway” she says, looking in my direction. My own thoroughness coming back to bite me? Damn it. The pit in my stomach worsens when I see the resolve on her face and realize there’s nothing I can possibly say to postpone her. </p><p>‘Sometimes, words don’t work.’ I shake my head at the errant thought, not knowing where it came from.</p><p>“I’m not gonna let fear rule what I do anymore. James took so much of my youth, all that time wasted. I just want to get back to my life now, Brahms. I hope you can understand.” She’s speaking but I can hardly hear her. My ears are ringing.</p><p>“Well, what do you want to do today? We can do anything you want,” she tells me. I get up off the couch and walk towards the hallway. I turn back at her before I can open the passageway to get down to my room.</p><p>“I’m sorry I... um, I have to go do something” I say. Once I’m in the safety of my room I sit there and cry for awhile. I didn’t want her to see. But she’s right, she does deserve to be able to get back to her life. The life I wasn’t apart of. ‘The life where she was constantly hurt, almost killed?’ An insidious part of my brain whispers. ‘At least she’d be safe, here.’ No no no! I clench my fists painfully. It’s not my decision to make, it’s hers. I go to grab a couple things out of my desk and get to work on something that I thought I’d have more time to complete. </p><p>I sigh and and wipe the sweat off my forehead. ‘Finished.’ I did it in time, I walk back up to go see if she still wants to spend the day together only to realize it’s night. I guess I got too absorbed in my work...</p><p>“Anna.” She’s packing up her things. I’m standing at the doorway with some of the things of hers I stole in my hands. She looks up and sees what I have. “Ugh, that’s my favorite shirt, I was looking for that.” </p><p>“I know” I tell her. Her eyes squint a little at that but she says nothing more on the subject, that is until she tells me “you sure do stare a lot, huh?” I’m just standing at the door watching her fold her things. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m just used to it.” She freezes and slowly looks up, that’s when I realize what I’ve said.</p><p>“Used to what... staring at me?” She asks, her voice an eerie calm before the storm surely hits, “how?” </p><p>I hide halfway behind the door as I answer her. “I mean, I watched you some. I just liked watching you do things through out the day” ‘and night’ I mentally add.</p><p>“How didn’t I see you? Do you have an invisibility cloak or something?” She asks, approaching me. I get too flustered when she’s this close, I squirm a little where I stand.</p><p>“There are holes in different spots in the walls, it’s too hard to see in but I can see out” I admit to her. </p><p>“What all did you see???” A panic rises in her voice, and I think it better to just say nothing at the moment. “You know what, never mind. Better for you if I don’t know. Or I really will pummel you” she threatens. </p><p>“You can if you want” I tell her.</p><p>She looks me up and down and says “you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” She can’t see my face flush underneath my mask, but she still chuckles lightly. “Are you here to tell me goodnight? It’s a little late for my offer of spending the day together.” She folds her arms and looks off, is she annoyed with me?</p><p>“I didn’t know so much time had passed, can’t I still use up my offer? Please” I ask. She lets out a frustrated breath and asks me “well what do you want to do then? Let’s hear it, before I decide if the offer still stands or not” so she is mad with me that I was gone for so long. If she really doesn’t mind being around me maybe she’ll actually say yes to my request. </p><p>The smallest bit of hope emboldens me to ask, “I want to spend the night here.” I let my words sink in between the air and hang there, waiting for her to tell me no. </p><p>“With me?” She asks, I shake my head fervently yes.</p><p>“Okay Brahms, since it’s to be our last night together, how can I say no?” I ignore the middle of the sentence and just take in that she’s actually said yes, I really thought she would say no. Now that she’s agreed, I find myself at a loss, even though it was my suggestion.</p><p>“Well, climb in. I’m gonna go change.” She takes her pajamas to the bathroom and shuts the door. I turn all the lights off, leaving the room in complete darkness and get under the covers. I take a deep breath in and just force myself to do it. I take the mask off, freeing my face and wait for her to come out.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I quickly get ready for bed, wondering what he could’ve possibly been so busy with all day. Maybe he’s just too upset to want to be around me now that he thinks I’m abandoning him? Why ask to spend the night with me then, though. I stumble out into what is now a pitch black room. I guess Brahms must be tired, he’s already turned off the lights and gotten into bed.</p><p>I walk towards the direction I think the bed is in and fall onto it. “Oof” I hear in the darkness. “Oops! Sorry, I thought you were on the other side.” I fell right on top of him. “It’s okay,” he tells me. I squirm away, onto my side of the bed and lay there. </p><p>“This is the first day since I’ve been here that I haven’t done my job,” I tell him “it felt weird all day.” I hear shuffling noises and think he’s turned his body towards me. “I feel kinda bad, having treated a doll with so much caring while all the time you were just alone and watching me.” I admit to him, wondering what his parents were really doing with the doll. I don’t think it was all just a front to lure someone here for the real Brahms, I saw how his mother at least looked at the thing. Why not treat her real son that well? Since he was after all, truly alive. </p><p>“It’s okay, it felt good to hear you say nice things before saying my name, even if it wasn’t really me who you were speaking them to...” he tells me.</p><p>Still, “you weren’t ever jealous?” I ask, teasingly. He says nothing.</p><p>I don’t think before I do what I’m about to, I just can’t bare the fact that a real human being wasn't given any affection all this time. I judge where he’s at from the sound of his voice I just heard and lean forward to kiss his cheek, like I would have done for the stupid doll any other night. </p><p>I intake a small breath when I feel real human warmth on my lips, not just cold porcelain. I pull back in surprise and can’t help what I do next, I reach my hand out to cup the cheek I just pressed a kissed to, and caress him carefully.</p><p>“Is this okay?” I ask as I cup his face in both my hands and gingerly rub my thumbs in circles on his cheeks. </p><p>“Perfectly okay” he answers thickly, I don’t feel any tears reach my fingers but if I continue I’m certain I will. So instead, I just pull myself closer to him and tuck into the crook of his neck. I can’t help it. He’s still treating me so tenderly, even though at this point it’d be easier on him if he just shut himself off from me. He thinks I’m leaving him in a few short hours, and he still holds me close in his arms and lets me touch his face.</p><p>As I’m lying there, waiting to fall asleep, I actually feel safe for the first time in 6 long years. Before I drift off I think to myself ‘He will let me go tomorrow, I just know it. He wouldn’t hurt me.’ I’m so sure of it that I let out a sigh against his neck and hug tighter, ‘please, let him let me go so I can come back.’ I think, my mind finally going dark.</p><p>The morning comes and I ask Brahms as we’re eating breakfast together if he’ll be okay getting groceries when I’m gone. “Charlie will help me” he replies, with an obvious admiration coming through in his voice. I almost choke on my toast.</p><p>“You’ve talked to him then? He seemed to not even be sure if you were alive when we spoke a few days ago,” I tell him. Charles was the one who warned me that Brahms could’ve possibly been here, and for that I’ll be forever grateful. I think if I had no warning at all, I might’ve actually fainted when I first saw him. As embarrassing as it sounds I probably would have freaked out and thought he was a burglar or something, what that damn mask he wears. </p><p>“Yes, I saw him that same day. I walked to his place afterwards and we talked, he knows I’m alive. He said he’ll help me if I need him to.” He says sounding a bit dejected, I guess the ‘if’ factor has become a reality to him now that he thinks I’ll be gone.</p><p>“You two were close growing up, huh?” I say the obvious, just wanting to prod him to speak more about him. His eyes light up when he talks about his cousin, I’m glad he at least has some family by his side now. After his parents complete and utter failure to be there for him, that is.</p><p>“Yeah, we were all 3 inseparable before everything” he tells me.</p><p>I shouldn’t ask, if he wanted me to know more then he would’ve told me. My face must state my thoughts plainly enough because he tells me “she fell that day. Off of the old train track bridge, a few miles away from here. I guess everyone thought I pushed her, I don’t know why though. I never would’ve hurt her.” His voice sounds fierce and I can tell he means it. I remember the photos I saw of them together, they all looked so happy. They were just kids, none of them evil murderers. Ugh, I hate small towns so much, are they so bored they have nothing better to create gossip about? Assholes.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>“My cab will be here soon...” she says, after we finish breakfast. </p><p>“I’ll bring your bags down,” I tell her. My throat feels dry, I can hardly get out the words. I walk up the stairs like it’s a death march. I look around at the empty room before I walk back down to her. I feel strange though, unhinged. I stand in front of her as I set the bags down and wait, for what I don’t know. She looks up at me, a sincere smile plastered on her face and I suddenly feel shaken to my core. ‘I’ll never see her dimples again.’</p><p>“Well, this is it-” I can hardly hear her speak. She hasn’t even said anything about maybe keeping in touch, somehow. I figured she wouldn’t ever agree to visit, but I thought she might at least agree to write. She’s really about to leave, she’ll be gone, forever. I’ll never know what happened to her. If she’s safe or happy, and Oh god, I can hardly get enough air. My breathing gets heavier every second and I watch hesitation form in her eyes. Hesitation and fear. </p><p>I quirk my head to the side. God, looking at her now, she’s so little next to me. She doesn’t even come up to my shoulders. With her w-weak body, a gust of wind could blow her over... I hear a ringing in my ears again, like before, and I drop down to my knees on the floor in front of her, heart pounding so fast. I clutch onto her tightly and smother myself into her body. She smells so good, like springtime and sunlight, like life. And all that’s laid out in front of me without her is darkness. </p><p>“Brahms,” She says, breathless. “Don’t do this...”</p><p>“Please, please don’t go” I beg her, literally on my knees in front of her. “It’s not safe out there, if you were here with me you could be happy, I know it.” I press my face into her to muffle my cries. My sobs come from deep within my chest, where all my pain has been stored, waiting to come out for years.</p><p>“Brahms please, you’re scaring me.” her voice wavers, and I look up through my tears at her face. She looks like she did again, that night... she’s scared of me. Of me! But I’m the only one who can keep her safe. It’s everyone else who she should be afraid of.</p><p>“You’re ruining everything and you don’t even know it!” She screams at me, making no sense. “God. Please, just let me go.” </p><p>She’s pushing me with what I presume is all her strength, and I barely feel it. I could lift her right now and hold her to me, and there’s nothing she could do about it. ‘I could keep her here.’ I finally think, and there it is. The dark thought I keep trying to push away with all my strength. But I have no strength left when I’m with her, she makes me weak in a different way. I have no will. ‘Maybe I am a bad man...’ I think numbly.</p><p>“I thought you wanted me to be happy.” She says, frustrated. “I trusted you...” Her voice wobbles and my whole mind shatters at the words. Trusted me?</p><p>Oh god, I really can’t do it. My hands loosen their grip on her and slowly slip away as I lean back and gaze up at the relief forming in her face. It’s not a choice I can even make anymore, it’s not about being good or bad. I probably am bad, but I love her too much to do this. I have no choice but to let her go so she can be happy. I crumple to the ground for a second in defeat, then I try my best to regain my composure and stand up again. I feel robotic when I say “here, promise me you won’t open it till you’re on the plane.” I hand her an envelope from my back pocket and she nods an assent up at me, trepidation in her eyes. </p><p>I raise my shaking hand to hover over her head, meaning to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear one last time, but she cringes away and I drop it quickly. She’s back to flinching at the suggestion of my touch. Right back where we were in the beginning, like the last few days never happened. Like I ruined them, which I suppose I did. ‘I deserve this reaction from her,’ I remind myself. This is going to be how she remembers me now, like a monster, and I am. ‘Everyone was right about you.’ The thought takes root and spreads throughout all of me until I feel so cold, colder than I’ve ever felt.</p><p>“Goodbye” I say, before swiftly turning and walking away. I’m forcing my feet to move, one in front of the other, I can’t watch her walk out the door. I hear a ‘click’ and then silence. A few moments later, there’s the sound of a car pulling up and then more noise as she loads her things. Then, silence again. Nothing but silence all around, for I don’t know how long. Stretched out in front of me, for forever.</p><p>I feel both regretful and relieved. ‘I really didn’t hurt her, I let her go’ I think to myself. I’m alone, but she won’t be. If I kept her here, I would’ve been taking her life away, just like what was done to me. It would’ve been unforgivable. I sit on the floor for hours, watching the shadows cast by the sun through the blinds move past me.</p><p>I shouldn’t bother him, he’s already done so much for me the past few days, but I can’t stand being alone with my thoughts another second. They’re so loud, I can’t get them to stop.</p><p>I think about just walking over to his house, but what if he has someone else over and they see me? Better to just pick up the phone and call.</p><p>“Charlie?” I ask, after I hear someone pick up the phone and groan into it.</p><p>“Shmup, I’m up... hol’ on,” Jesus, it’s the middle of the day. Did I really wake him? “Hello, hello?” He asks again after a moment.</p><p>“It’s me.” My voice wobbles, words hardly coming to me, and he curses into the receiver already seeming to know what’s happened.</p><p>“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up before saying another word.</p><p>I shower and get dressed, by the time I come back up he’s sitting in the living room looking around at all the photos while he waits for me. “They erased you,” he turns to me and angrily says “they couldn’t put one damn picture of you out here? Even from when we were kids or something?? Tossers.” He mutters, angrily.</p><p>He finally looks me up and down and sighs, “you look bad. Did you get any sleep last night?” I shake my head no, I stayed up all night staring at her after she fell asleep like a creep. Maybe that’s why she left, because I’m a huge creep. A monster after all. I clutch at my chest in pain and my face screws up.</p><p>“Okay okay, none of that.” He pats my shoulder in comfort, and I try to lock my emotion down.</p><p>“Look, I did something yesterday, and I don’t want you to be mad when I tell you. Can you at least listen to me explain before you go off on one?” He pleads. Whatever he’s done, it’s perfect timing to tell me because I don’t have it in me right now to get mad over anything. It doesn’t matter. I slump down into the chair and gesture for him to go ahead.</p><p>“I may have told mum and dad about you.” He waits a few seconds before saying anything else while he gauges my reaction. Once he thinks it safe to go on, he adds “dads going in for surgery in a few days and I didn’t want him to die not knowing the truth.” That gets my attention finally.</p><p>“Die?! What the hell are you talking about?” I yell.</p><p>“I didn’t get a chance to tell you...” he runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a long breath. “He has lung cancer. We’ve known since the summer, he had pneumonia for so long, so we forced him to go in for a check up and they found something.” </p><p>“Is he gonna die?” My stomach sinks as I ask, who knew this day could possibly get any worse. I get up from my seat and start to pace around the room.</p><p>“He was doing chemo and radiation therapy for it all this time, and now they’re going to go in and try to remove what they can. Then I guess they’ll know more, but he’s pretty weak. I think the news of Aunt and Uncle killing themselves really took its toll on his will. He feels guilty for not talking to them all these years. If he doesn’t survive the surgery...” he doesn’t finish.</p><p>“What did he say? About me being alive, I mean.” I loved my uncle growing up, him and my father were so different from one another that you wouldn’t know they were really brothers if they didn’t look alike. My father was all coldness and distance, but my uncle John... all I remember being over at their house when I was a child was laughter and affection shown to Charlie, and me as well. He was always happy and smiling, never once did he have a bad word to say to us kids. My father said he of course had the luxury of being this way, he was the youngest brother and didn’t have the burden of the family business on his shoulders like my father had since he turned 20. </p><p>“I don’t think he fully believed me, Brahms. That’s why I was thinking-” He sheepishly looks up at me. “Come with me today, to the hospital. Please man, I don’t want him to not see you again, if the worst happens and he doesn’t make it. You don’t know how crushed he was when we thought you died, he cried like I’ve never heard him before. Just come with me.” He pleads with me. </p><p>“You don’t have to beg Charlie, I’ll come. I’d like to see him too.” I don’t know what he’ll say when he sees me, but if he dies and I don’t go, I’ll never forgive myself.</p><p>He sighs in relief and walks to my parents old room, once he’s back he says “Alright, come on then.” He has a set of keys in his hand and I ask “you have a car?” He looks back at me as we both leave the house and replies “no, I don’t like to drive unless I have to. If I get pulled over let’s just say I’m not gonna be able to say the bloody alphabet backwards.” He leads us out the door in the kitchen to the back of the house and pulls the cover off of my parents old car. I forgot this was even here. “They won’t mind, I’m sure” he grins and we jump into the old car and head to the hospital.</p><p>On the ride up I ask him “what about my face?” </p><p>He turns to me “what about it? People with scars aren’t allowed to be out in the public or something?” I guess I was sort of asking that, it seems silly now that he’s spoken it. That’s the way my parents made it feel for me, all those years. </p><p>We get to the hospital about 30 minutes later, and we park and head in. He signs the visitor log and when the nurse at the front desk tells me to sign my name as well, I just scribble ineligible nonsense onto the page. He stops me before we both enter the room he’s in.</p><p>“Let me go in first, real quick. I’ll tell them you’re here then come and grab you. Best to give them a little warning, before seeing a ghost” he winks at me. I nod and watch him go in and shut the door behind him.</p><p>I shuffle my feet on the squeaky hospital floors while I wait. ‘I hope they don’t flinch at my face...’ I think, anxiously. ‘I won’t hold it against them, I won’t let them know it hurts if they do’ I vow. </p><p>I suddenly feel a bit strange, like I can’t quite get enough air into my lungs. All the different people passing all around me, the different noises beeping and sounding off. I feel the opposite of claustrophobic, at the moment. My whole being longs for a quiet, secluded space. My chest constricts and I try to get a grip, ‘no one’s even looking at me,’ I think, chastising myself. ‘I’m in a cancer ward, for heaven’s sake. No one cares enough to stare at me.’ I didn’t know it would feel so urgently unsafe, being out in the real world again. Too many eyes, too loud. </p><p>Just as I’m regaining my sense of self, Charlie finally comes out and grabs me by the hand to pull me in. I walk into the room and see him laying there, on the hospital bed. He looks thinner and smaller somehow, and definitely older, but he’s still him. He looks me up and down and stops at my face, I brace myself for some sort of indicator that he’s disgusted, but instead his eyes fill to the brim with tears and spill onto his face.</p><p>“It’s really you, Brahmsy?” Oh good god, no. I wasn’t prepared to hear my childhood nickname my family used to call me when I was young, I try to stiffen my upper lip. ‘I don’t want to cry, don’t cry.’ My parents used to call me that too, but they stopped a long long time ago. I haven’t heard it from them in years. I didn’t think it would affect me like this, hearing it again. My lip quivers and I bite it, nodding my head yes at him. “Hi uncle John.” </p><p>Then he really starts to cry, I walk over to his hospital bed and he takes my hand. “Why did they do this? Why would they ever do this,” he’s asking me why my parents made everyone believe I was dead. I don’t think the answer would help anyone in this room very much, if Charlie knows the whole truth he’ll spiral even worse. I can already see how affected he is by everything. It would be disastrous if he ever thought that not only Emily’s accidental death was his fault, but also subsequently the fire Emily’s parents started to try and kill me. He’s barely getting by as it is, it would destroy him. I don’t even want to think of it. Better no one ever knows it wasn’t an accident.</p><p>I shake my head, “I’m not sure. But whatever reason they did it for, I don’t think they could live with the guilt of what they were doing. That’s why they never wanted to face anyone, it’s why they eventually...” I let my voice trail off, not saying the words. “It’s not your fault, uncle. They chose to do what they did, and then doled out their own punishments I suppose.” </p><p>He tightens his grip around my hand and whispers “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you all these years, son.” It’s just an affectionate term, but it makes me feel warm all the same to hear that word spoken with love to me.</p><p>“I missed you all so much, I tried to get them to let me see you, I really tried.” I sounded like a child again, in my cadence and the way I’m speaking, but I can’t help it. He shushes me.</p><p>“It’s not your fault, Brahms. You were just a boy. None of it is your fault” he tells me and pulls me down for a hug. My tears come out then, I can’t stop them. I start to cry on his shoulder, like a little kid, and we stay there for awhile.</p><p>My aunt walks over then and starts to pat my back “Well,” she starts “we have you back now. That will have to be enough.” She states with a loving smile. I nod fervently at her. ‘I still have a family,’ I think to myself. ‘That will have to be enough.’</p><p>Charlie and I drive back home, both sitting in silence feeling emotionally drained from the whole endeavor. He finally breaks the silence “That fucked me up, man.” I laugh, that’s one way to put it. Once we reach the house, he parks in the back and we both walk in and sit down together.</p><p>“I don’t know about you Brahms, but I need a drink after that.” He gets up and walks to father’s study, to get some of his good liquor.</p><p>“I’ll take one too” I say. </p><p>He leans backwards til I see his head peak back into the kitchen, “for real?” </p><p>I nod at him. “Make me something that doesn’t taste like rubbing alcohol, please.” </p><p>“That, I can do.” He grins evilly at me. I take one sip of the drink he’s made me, bracing myself to cringe at the taste. </p><p>“Did you really put alcohol in this?” I ask, disbelieving. He turns to me and laughs as he pours himself a drink straight from a bottle. </p><p>“Don’t worry, you’ll feel it soon enough.” He keeps making me the same thing, and I continue throwing them back. After about an hour, I go to stand up and the room spins as I do. “I’ll be right back.” I tell him, and walk to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, which is strange  because I never do that. My cheeks are flushed and it’s difficult to focus my eyes. Well, he was certainly right. </p><p>I stumble out of the bathroom and ask him “What’d you put in that?” He smiles, pleased with himself.</p><p>“Why, want another?” He asks. I nod at him and hand him my empty glass.</p><p> </p><p>—-</p><p> </p><p>I practically run out of the front door once I see he’s letting me go, the cab is pulling up just as I’m coming down the steps. I put my bags in the trunk and get in the backseat. I watch the front door as we pull away in confusion. ‘What the hell just happened? What went wrong, he was fine then it’s like he snapped.’ I think to myself, mind still in panic mode. His eyes were like I’d never seen them before, he looked truly crazy. I’ve never seen someone completely lose themselves like that before...</p><p>I still my shaking hands. ‘Even after all that though, he still let me go’ I remind myself, heart rate decreasing. “Take me into town, will you?” I tell the cab driver. I needed some time to think.</p><p>Once we reach the town, I tell him thanks and leave the car with my things in tow. “You’re sure you don’t need dropped off at the airport, miss?” He asks me, puzzled that I have suitcases with me. “No,” I laugh, “at least, I’m not sure yet.” I tell the confused man and shut the car door. </p><p>Now that I’m here, I’m eager to get out of the cold already. I find a coffee shop to head inside of and order something to warm me up. While I’m sitting there, I take the envelope out of my bag and open it. It’s thick, what the hell could be in here... I freeze when I realize the contents. It’s money, a lot of it too. What was he thinking? This is way more than I’m owed from my time working there. The rich jerk, some sentimental farewell. A small part of me wanted it to be a letter, I realized. Something to offer any incite on what the hell just happened and why.</p><p>Just as I’m about to stuff it back in my bag, forgetting that I’m not in New York and I’m probably not about to get robbed in this small countryside town, I see something else. I unfold it and tilt my head to the side. It’s a drawing, of me. I touch the page lightly and realized this must be what he was so busy with yesterday. It’s... beautiful. The drawings I saw when I was in his room pale in comparison to this, it’s like he poured all his feeling into it.</p><p>My heart swells just looking at it, it’s me sitting at the piano in the living room, playing it lovingly. So, he must have heard me play that first day, that’s when this was if my outfit is any indication. That was the only day I had this shirt, before he took it. I laugh and shake my head.</p><p>I run my fingers over the page again. The tears in my eyes whilst I was playing, he really saw that. Why did he draw this moment out of all the others he observed? When I remember that he read my diary, I also remember he must have read the part where I wrote about how I didn’t play anymore in front of others because I was too self conscious. In fact, I’d stopped playing almost entirely. This must be his way of urging me to keep on playing. </p><p>My throat feels tight as I look at how he drew me, is this how he sees me? He made me prettier than I am, I laugh. How can the man who drew this and the one who just almost didn’t let me leave his house, be the same man? I feel even more conflicted now than before. If he spent all day yesterday drawing this to give me before I left, then it wasn’t always his intention to try and stop me from going. At least, it hadn’t been until he actually had to watch me walk out the door. What do I do?</p><p>I step out of the coffee shop and find a quiet spot where I can call Eva quickly.</p><p>“Hi!” I tell her. “I almost didn’t think you’d be up, what time is it there?” I ask her.</p><p>She laughs and says “don’t you of all people start lecturing me about a bad sleep schedule, then I’ll know I’m screwed.” I mock scoff. </p><p>“About yesterday...” I start off, “never mind it E, I’m perfectly fine. I was just being weird because-” I tap my foot thinking, “surprise surprise, I was just sleep deprived. But anyways, I wanted to ask you some advice.”</p><p>She perks up at this, if there’s one thing Eva loves, it’s doling out advice for people. “I’m all ears.” I smile at her. “Is it going to be all cryptic again though?” She asks me.</p><p>A few seconds pass of silence and she groans “just tell me what you can, I guess!” She throws up her hands in frustration. “I’ll try and help with whatever you give me, although if I’m only getting half the story, don’t blame me if things go wrong.” </p><p>I chew on my lip, the cold is stinging my cheeks. I wrap my scarf tighter around me and start “is there anyway to help someone who doesn’t know how to help themselves?” I almost flinch at just how much of an understatement that is to my actual current situation, but I wait all the same for her answer.</p><p>“Hmm,” she taps her chin. “This person, they actually asked for your help?” She questions me. I nod at her. </p><p>“Explicitly” I say. Remembering the vulnerability when he asked me still makes my stomach twist with a heavy guilt. The fact that he was even able to ask me is a miracle, considering well... everything. I let out a long held in sigh.</p><p>“Then, anyone self aware enough to actually ask for help, can be helped, yes. Don’t forget Anna, not too long ago I had the same query for myself, about your situation.” My brow furrows at her words. “You asked me for my help and I gladly gave it, you know how hard it is to even reach out and ask, remember that when dealing with whoever this is. Asking for help is the first step.” </p><p>I sit there thinking silently for a moment and my mind goes to a strange, unwanted place. When I was in the car accident with Brandon, the last thing I remember is that I reached my arm back behind me to grab for his hand. It’s the only reason I was even injured at all, the reason my arm was shattered so horribly, the whole backseat was crushed on impact. But I’ve still never regretted doing it, because the last thing he ever saw was his big sister reaching out for him. Even if he couldn’t take my hand, he saw me reaching for him. </p><p>Has anyone ever once reached out to Brahms? </p><p>“You’re right, Eva. I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” I tell her. How can I deny helping Brahms when Eva gave me that same life altering help. How can I possibly deny someone else what I was selflessly given? I can’t, I won’t. “You’re a genius as always, I love you!” I kiss the screen and she scrunches up her face and giggles. “Gotta go!” I hang up the phone hastily, still buzzing from my epiphany.</p><p>I look around at all the other stores on the block, I see a book store and decide to walk in. Once I get all the things I wanted to, I decide to make a stop in the grocery store to say a quick hi to Malcolm, secretly hoping he’ll give me a ride home. ‘Home?’ I think to myself. I suppose, yes, it is for now. </p><p>I walk in ready to razz Malcolm a tad for how hungover he still probably is from his bachelor weekend, he texted that they were extending the trip by a day but he should be back by now. I walk in ready to see him but instead I see a pretty woman standing at the front of the store in his place. </p><p>“Hi, is Malcolm here?” I look around the aisles, not seeing any other people here dressed in employee uniforms.</p><p>“No, he had to call out of work but I can help you, if you’d like. I’m his sister, Madilyn.” Oh. That’s why she looked a little familiar, I can see the resemblance. No offense to Malcolm though, I scan her up and down, his sister is hotter than him. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, my name’s Anna. I was hoping to see him, more to socialize than buy anything. I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” I turn to leave, lugging my huge bags with me.</p><p>She stops me, “Wait! You’re Anna? My brother’s told me about you. Hi again-” she says, and holds out her hand. I take it in mine and smile, “you must know then that he was too hungover to come in for work today, and somehow I got stuck with the task.” </p><p>“Ha!” I laugh. Knew it. </p><p>“I figured he still could’ve managed getting his ass out of bed though.” She laughs at that, “well,” I huff “I better call the cab back then.” </p><p>She frowns at me. “You work at the Heelshire place, right? You have to call a cab every time you need to go somewhere? That’s terrible.” She looks at the clock on the wall and then back to me. “If you’d wait 15 minutes, I could give you a ride. I don’t mind, it’d be nice to make a new friend. A lot of people in this town are kind of the worst.” She makes a face and I break out into a huge grin. From what little I’ve heard, I can’t help but agree. I smile and take her up on her offer.</p><p>When we’re both walking to her car, she raises her eyebrows in question as I load my suitcases into her backseat. “Long story” I tell her. That’s one way to describe it. On the drive back we get to talking, and I really liked her a lot. We had a lot in common, she was about 25 and studied abroad, but came back home once she found out her mom was sick. ‘I didn’t know Malcolm had a sick mom to take care of,’ I don’t think he talks about that kind of stuff though, he seemed more the stoic type. Not his sister though, she made the car ride feel so short because I was on the edge of my seat the whole time with the stories she shared.</p><p>“-and by the time they found out, they were already on their way to elope!” I snorted at her story, just one of many she filled me in on about the crazy people who lived around here. We were both parked before the gate of the property, once I realized we’d already arrived I asked her to pull over and park so we could keep talking. I looked out the window at the sun setting, it would be dark in a few more minutes. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, the time just got away from me. I hope Brahms isn’t suffering too much. I should get inside, but before I can leave I have to ask. “Hey Madi, what do the people in town think about the Heelshire’s?” I ask her.</p><p>She lights a cigarette and puffs. “Well, they were just 2 old batty shut ins, so nothing much. God rest their souls and all that,” she amends. </p><p>I’d almost forgotten people didn’t know there were any living Heelshire’s left in this house. </p><p>“Did you mean Charlie and his folks?” She asks. </p><p>“No, I actually meant... the little boy, who lived here before.”</p><p>“Curious about that kid who died? Malcolm told me the truth about why you were hired on, everyone else thinks it’s to be a house keeper, but I know.” She tells me. ‘If only you really knew,’ I think to myself darkly. </p><p>“Yeah, I guess I was just curious about the... incident.” She throws her cigarette out the window and looks at me. </p><p>“I was too young to remember much, but I will say this-” she starts, “there are some rumors that the place is haunted. I’m sorry, I don’t want to scare you. But it’s not true, is it? I mean if anyone would know, it’d be you.” She laughs. </p><p>“No, it’s not true” I return. I wonder how so many rumors about the place being haunted got started? Who was ever over besides Malcolm... </p><p>“How did rumors about a ghost get started in the first place?” I ask her, “you said it yourself, it’s not like the Heelshire’s ever had any company over.” She seems hesitant to speak, but I urge her on.</p><p>“Well, I guess all the other... ‘nannies’” she makes quotation marks with her fingers, “kind of left town in a big panicked rush, one after the other. All with different stories about how the house was haunted and tried to kill them. All but you, at least.” She laughs a little, thinking the whole thing absurd, but I happen to know better. “I guess if there is a ghost in that house, it must like you at least.” She tries to joke and I force out an unconvincing laugh. </p><p>“What are some of the things they said happened to them?” She thinks I’m only asking to laugh at the women and the whole situation, thinking it obviously not true, but now I really want to know. </p><p>“Um, well mostly it just seemed like dumb pranks, but the last one actually said she was pushed down the stairs. Had bruises on her, so she must’ve really fallen, but I don’t see how she could have possibly been pushed.” She laughs again and I fiddle with my scarf nervously. From my perspective I see Brahms as mostly harmless. Or at least, not in any real fear of him physically injuring me. Even when he had me in a vice like grip earlier, it wasn’t painful, just unyielding. It’s becoming clearer and clearer that I might be the only person who he doesn’t try to hurt. I sigh, thinking.</p><p>“Since the place isn’t haunted, maybe I could come over sometime this week to hang? I don’t want you going all Jack Torrence being so secluded out here,” she jokes “‘spose there’s no one to axe murder though.” She gives me a cheeky grin.</p><p>“I’d like that, let me get your number.” As I say the words though, I’m already partly regretting them. Brahms wouldn’t hurt a friend of mine, would he?</p><p>I take a deep breath before heading back towards the house. I set my bags down on the porch and go to knock, but I try the handle first and realize it’s unlocked. I turn it and walk in. “Hello?” I say. The lights are on, but where was he? “I’m back, you big brute” I yell out, joking.</p><p>I walk into the kitchen and see a bunch of different glasses lying on the table. ‘Hmm, curiouser and curiouser. Maybe he had guests over’ I laugh, shaking my head at the nonsensical thought. I hear a crashing noise coming from the study, I walk towards the door and open it to see...</p><p>Well, Charles is over. He has a half empty bottle of liquor loosely in his grip, but that’s not what I’m focused on. I look to the other side of the small room. </p><p>Brahms is standing there still as a statue staring at me, wide eyed and... with his mask off. Instead of him going to put it back on, or me turning around to face the other way, we just continue staring at each other. Transfixed. I take in a breath and dumbly think to myself ‘handsome’ and then Charles bursts out in a fit of hysterics. Shit, guess I said that out loud instead of just in my own head. </p><p>Brahms rushes forward and when he reaches me, pulls me into a big hug. “Thank you.” He says, “thank you thank you thank you” as he cries on my shoulder, I smell booze on him as well. I shake my head. Things have devolved here, while I was only gone for a few hours. I affectionately rub Brahms’ hair and laugh light hearted. “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, what happened here while I was away?”</p><p>“What do you mean you didn’t mean to be gone so long?” Charles asks me. </p><p>I turn to face him and say to them both “Long story. But I’m back now,” I pat his head and he squeezes me tighter, hoisting me up a few inches off the ground now. “Too tight!” I squeak, my feet kicking in the air. He loosens his hold a little bit, but doesn’t release me. I smile and just let my feet dangle there as he continues holding me to him. </p><p>Charles looks on in disgust and remarks “I’m gonna just leave you both alone a moment, this is all a bit too much for me to bare witness to.” He walks out of the room and closes the door behind him.</p><p>“Brahms, what happened all day? You seem really drunk.” I feel him nod and he finally lets me down and pulls away to look at me. Seeing his face again knocks the breath from me. This is really the face he was so scared for me to see? Doesn’t he realize that it’s truly not what he built it up to be. The top right of his face was burnt, but even with the scars his face came together extraordinarily good looking. His parents really did a number on him, making him believe he was too hideously deformed to even be seen. Honestly, fuck them.</p><p>“You don’t have your mask on, do you know?” I hesitantly inform him. </p><p>He touches his face and looks at me in a daze. “Do you want me to put it back on?” He asks, his brows furrowing in worry.</p><p>“No!” I practically scream. “Er, unless... I mean, did you want it back? Do you not want me to see,” I ask, feeling hypocritical about the way I lectured him before. I told him myself that him finding things out about me through dishonest means didn’t mean anything until I chose to tell him. Now here I am, gawking at his bare face when he’s too inebriated to even realize he took his mask off. </p><p>“I don’t care Anna, you can see any part of me you want.” I don’t think he realizes what he’s just said. Charles lets out a bark of a laugh from behind the door and I roll my eyes. </p><p>“Charles! Get in here, I need your help.” He bursts back through the door with a cheeky grin. ‘Private conversations meant nothing to this whole bloodline’ I thought, annoyed. “Help him up and to my room, please. He’s too big for me.” He lifts his brows when I tell him we’re bringing him to my room and I gesture for him to hurry up and just bring him.</p><p>Once we’re in my room I have him lay Brahms face down on the bed. I grab an empty bucket in case he’s sick, and put it at the side of the bed. He groans and I turn to Charles accusingly. “Why exactly did you have to give him so much? He’s probably never had a drink in his whole life.” I grab him and walk us both out into the hallway to talk, shutting the door as we go.</p><p>“He was self medicating, sad that you left. Only, you didn’t leave. Did you?” He smirks. </p><p>“I was never going to.” I let out a huff of breath, “he really freaked me out, with everything he’s done. I wanted to leave today to just, make sure I could. Does that make any sense?” He nods a little bit in understanding.</p><p>“That makes perfect sense, I just can’t believe the part where you came back. I’ve been tempering his expectations from the moment he told me...” he lets his voice trail off and then picks it up with a different thought. </p><p>“You’re really going to stay here with him? Why?” he asks, honestly curious. “You two seem a tad close, being as you only really met a few days ago.” He smiles knowingly at me and points back to the fact that he’s laying in my bedroom right now, and not any other room of the house. </p><p>I sigh, I don’t know how to explain it. I do feel closer to him than I probably should, but I don’t know why. “Well, it doesn’t matter why I’m back. I’m here now.”</p><p>“Thank you, then. Not a lot of people would be as understanding as you’re being,” he says. I brush it off, and then really assess him for the first time since I walked in. “You should really stay the night Charles, you’re 3 sheets to the wind. I wouldn’t even trust you to <i>walk</i> home right now.” He laughs a little.</p><p>“Just call me Charlie, since you’ll be staying and all, and yeah I probably will. I’ll be in aunt and uncle’s old room then, you two have fun cuddling up.” He turns with an annoying chuckle and walks downstairs. </p><p>I walk back into the room and try and unpack my things a little. I take a quick shower and when I come back out I think that Brahms must be knocked out. I grab a pillow, and a blanket and make a makeshift bed on the floor next to him. Just as long as I’m close enough by to keep an eye on him, he could be sick. </p><p>He gets up off the bed and scoops me off the floor, then throws me onto the mattress gently. “Hey!” I yell, “don’t just toss me around like that, it’s rude.” </p><p>“Sorry,” he says, then settles back into bed beside me. I look at his flushed face, his eyelashes brushing against his skin. It feels different tonight, sleeping in the same bed with him, now that I know that he happens to be attractive. ‘I’m being ridiculous’ I tell myself. He climbs up onto me, and rests his head on my stomach, his body between my legs. Before I can say anything, he already seems like he’s fallen back asleep. </p><p>I run my fingers through his curls and think back to what Charlie said. Why do I feel so much better when Brahms is around? Come to think of it, I’ve been a little on edge all day. Worrying over him since he was out of my sight, how odd. That can’t be healthy. I brush his hair off his forehead and look down at him. Now that the fear I felt in his presence has melted away, it’s been replaced with something else. Something light and safe. ‘And warm’ I think, blushing.</p><p>“This reminds me of a few weeks ago, only now, it’s the reverse.” He breaks through my thoughts, not asleep after all.</p><p>“What do you mean?” I ask, curious.</p><p>“When you got drunk from my father’s liquor, and I had to take care of you.” He laughs a little and I feel the vibration on my stomach. My face feels hot. </p><p>“You were...here? In my room or something?” I ask, trying to find any anger building in me, but only the precious feeling of being taken care of comes. How fucked up am I?</p><p>“I was worried about you, you looked so upset. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t leave your side.” He whispers into me. “I can hear your heart beating quicker” he says, and I try to calm down...</p><p>Oh no, what Charlie said hit a nerve for a reason. I am feeling too attached to him, but why? It’s just because he gives me unrestrained affection with no expectations in return, that’s all. I’m not used to that.</p><p>“When I saw you had come back, it was the happiest moment of my life.” He muffles the words into my chest and I feel my heart strain.</p><p>“Stop saying such nice things to me,” I mutter. It’s muddling my mind. Besides, he’s gonna be so embarrassed if he remembers everything he’s said come tomorrow morning, I smile fondly at the thought.</p><p>“No.” He says quietly, and without room for argument. I let out a huff of breath. A few more seconds pass before he says “Anna, why did you come back?” He asks me softly, “after what I did... what I almost did.”</p><p>I look down at him laying across me and tell him the truth. “Because I know you can be a good man, Brahms. I believe in you. So, I’ll stay here with you.” </p><p>Then he really does fall asleep. I sit there with him lying on top of me, listening to his breathing and wonder if it really is out of character for me to have decided to stay after how crazy he acted earlier in the day. I look at his sleeping face though and can’t help but to see him for what really he is, desperate for someone to love him despite all his faults. How utterly human. </p><p>He’s no monster. </p><p> </p><p>I hear a frantic pounding on the door the next morning and groan before rolling out of the warmth of the bed. I throw the warm blanket back over Brahms sleeping form and I rush downstairs. I quickly open the door to see Malcolm standing there, in a frenzied state. Once he sees me he lets out a relieved breath and clutches at his chest. “Christ!” He says, exasperated and lets out a breathy laugh.</p><p>“What is it Malcolm? What time is it by the way??” I squint from the sunlight leaking in from outside. Shielding my face from the light with my hands, I quickly step to the side to let him through.</p><p>“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I was worried.” He rushes past me into the kitchen and I rub at my eyes, trying to wake myself up a little. I look around and see Charlie already cleaned up the mess that was left here last night, nice of him.</p><p>“I don’t know, I guess I must’ve let the battery die. Why were you so worried? I’m fine, as always.” I want to laugh at his urgency but something in his eyes as he turns on his heal to look at me stops my nonchalance. Geez, did Eva call him after all just to check on me and make sure I’m fine? Hm, maybe. She always did worry too much.</p><p>“After the trip got extended, I was sleeping it off at my place up until about 6am this morning. I went down to open up the store and Tommy from one of the shops next to mine mentioned a man came by a few days ago to ask about you. Wanted to know if anyone else was at the Heelshire house with the new house keeper. He only mentioned it to me because he found it so strange, after I asked around town for you a few weeks back. When you didn’t answer the phone I thought-” His voice trails off and he shakes his head a little and laughs. “I got in my head, I suppose. You’re fine.”</p><p>I busy myself with making us both a cup of coffee, I don’t want him to see my face. So someone in town told James I was alone here, but thankfully I wasn’t. That jerk could've gotten me killed though! I look over my shoulder and see Malcolm catching his breath at the table. It’s kind of sweet that he practically ran here just to check on me, I grin to myself a tiny bit and pour us both a mug. </p><p>“Haven’t you seen your sister at all since yesterday, you dunce?” I ask, lighthearted. </p><p>He looks at me puzzled and takes a sip. “Whaddya mean?” He asks.</p><p>“I actually came into town yesterday, I stopped by the shop to say hi to you but you weren’t there. Madi gave me a ride back here, I like her. She’s funnier than you.” He rolls his eyes at me and I chuckle. </p><p>“This is my thanks for rushing out here to your rescue? My sense of humor in question?” I laugh at that.</p><p>I raise my brows at him and smirk while I take another sip of my drink. “My hero,” I mock him. But it does sort of reassure me a little, that he actually came out to check on me. If things really did turn out bad yesterday, if Brahms had... well, now I know that Malcolm would’ve come to save me. It’s a nice feeling.</p><p>“So,” he starts “no one was by, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be. Are you sure you feel safe here? You could come stay with me for a couple of days. I don’t want you alone if that guy is lurking around here somewhere, asking after you.” He looks perturbed. The offer is so sweet I feel bad that I can’t take him up on it. </p><p>“I’ll be okay here, Malcolm. I’m not as helpless as one might think. And I promise, if anything strange happens I’ll call you right away.” He looks like he wants to argue further, but drops it for now. </p><p>I ask a little about his trip and he tells me it was really good, that the guy he’s a groomsman for, he’s been friends with since he was in primary school. </p><p>“That’s really sweet, I’m sorry I called you that night, I felt bad interrupting like that” I confess.</p><p>He shakes his head a little. “Don’t worry about it, but I am curious... why did you ask me that question? About Emily Cribbs death? Where did that come from.”</p><p>I try and think of a reasonable excuse. I don’t want this topic broached here and now, I just want the subject quashed. I never should have asked in the first place, what would Malcolm know? Besides what everyone else in this town assumes they know.</p><p>“I just don’t think Charles sees it the way everyone else seems to, that his cousin was to blame for Emily dying. And besides, who was there that day other than those two anyways? Since they’re both gone, no one really knows the truth.” I sigh “Lets just drop it, I shouldn’t have asked. I just feel bad for Charles, his whole life has kind of been affected by it.” I try and end the conversation there.</p><p>Malcolm looks down at his lap and zones out for a little. “Yeah, every time we’re at the bar together and someone even mentions to him that Brahms killed that girl, he ends up getting into a huge brawl. Bloodies up anyone who dares to say a word about it. I know that.” He gulps and takes another sip of his drink.</p><p>“...Yeah, well, it’s his family. I can understand what he feels.” I try to change the subject again but he forges on.</p><p>“People in this town,” he scoffs, “they just need to drop it. It happened twenty bloody years ago, why can’t people just move on?” His voice wavers a little but he continues. “It’s not like any good can come from dredging up the past, anyways. Whatever happened that day, it doesn’t matter now. It’s done.” His voice takes on a dark undertone.</p><p>“Malcolm, are you okay?” I ask, putting my hand on his arm, confused but concerned for him. </p><p>“It’s my fault. It’s my fault they killed themselves, the Heelshire’s.” This again? He can’t possibly take the blame on himself for not noticing what they were gonna do, he was only their grocery man.</p><p>“What are you talking about? I already told you-” He turns to me with a haunted look in his eyes, and it stops my words from coming out. He looks so fragile all of a sudden...</p><p>“You’re the only one I can talk to,” he whispers urgently “because you’re not from here, this stupidly small town! You’re the only one who’s far enough away from it all to maybe, understand.” His sudden intensity is scaring me a little. “Please, don’t judge me.” He pleads with me.</p><p>“They couldn’t go anywhere in this town, people thinking their son was a murderer followed them like a dark fog. People constantly whispering that it was their fault, that they didn’t raise their son right and a little girl had to pay the price for their failings as parents. I didn’t see it, how much it must’ve worn on them. I tried to always talk to them both, spend extra time here when I would drop my deliveries. But I didn’t notice...”</p><p>My eyebrows furrow in sadness. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for what they did, though. It’s no one’s fault Malcolm, they were just sad. Depressed about their son.” </p><p>“But you’re wrong,” he says “that’s why it is my fault. I’m the reason everyone in town treated them like pariahs. It was just one stupid mistake, I didn’t think it would turn into so much, I didn’t understand at the time.” He puts his head into his shaking hands.</p><p>“What mistake?” I say, unable to stop the words from tumbling out, even though I know I shouldn’t ask. I should stop this right now, no good is going to come from whatever he says next. But I have to know.</p><p>“The day Emily Cribbs died, she fell off a train bridge and everyone thought Brahms pushed her. They thought that because of me, my friends and I. We were playing around the area like we always did when we were kids, riding our bikes around by the lake. We saw her fall, and we saw another boy come running from that spot a few seconds later off into the woods in the other direction. We rode our bikes to the Cribbs house and told her parents what we saw, only when they asked if it was Brahms who was with her and ran off after leaving her to die, we all looked at each other and then said yes.” I pull my hand from his arm like the touch burned me.</p><p>“But it wasn’t him...?” I say back to him. </p><p>He looks down at the hand I pulled from his touch and he hurriedly tries to explain. “No, it was Charlie I think. I-I don’t know why we lied, we all liked Charlie, he was our friend and none of us liked his cousin. We didn’t want Charlie to get in any trouble, we were just 10 years old. We didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.” My eyes are burning at him and he lowers his gaze.</p><p>“I know, okay. I know. All of us are the reason this whole town blamed some poor dead kid for something he never did, the reason his parents couldn’t have even an ounce of peace the past 2 decades.” He sniffles and wipes his tears from his face.</p><p>“Why did you never tell the truth, after you realized your mistakes. Why did none of you ever correct anyone?” I ask, trying so hard to keep my voice down. To not wake either of them.</p><p>“What’s the point?” Malcolm asks, and I sit there, completely frozen in shock. “Now that they’re all dead.” I flinch at his callousness. ‘But they’re not’ I think.</p><p>A few more moments pass in complete silence before I hear it, foot steps coming through the kitchen. I close my eyes. I don’t want to turn, please, he couldn’t have woken up and heard. Maybe it’s Charles behind us, please god. But once I open my eyes again, the look of utter confusion on Malcolm’s face tells me what I already know. I turn in my seat and put my hands up, ready to try and stop him. </p><p>Brahms is standing there with his hands clenched in rage. He must have heard everything, he wouldn’t have come out otherwise. ‘Would he be showing himself at all if he plans to let Malcolm leave today?’ I think in horror, then shake my head. No. I have to stop whatever’s about to happen.</p><p>“Don’t.” I plead, but I don’t think he can hear me. Malcolm starts to say something, “Anna who is-” but Brahms cuts him off. </p><p>“You-” he points his finger “you ruined my life. You took my whole life from me and you don’t even know it.” He’s so furious that he’s actually speaking calmly, which only serves to make me more nervous. </p><p>Malcolm’s face goes white and he looks back at me, question in his eyes.</p><p>“Brahms. Please.” I swiftly stand and try to walk over to him, once I reach him I pull at his face to try and get him to look at me. If I can just get him to break eye contact with Malcolm, he looks like a feral animal as he glares at him accusingly. “It’s not all his fault, your parent’s didn’t...”</p><p>He snaps his eyes to me finally, “you think I care about them? Or anyone in this damn town or what they think?” He laughs and my stomach drops, he’s getting angrier, I’m not doing a very good job at deescalating. I squeeze my arms around his body into a tight hold, hoping to keep him grounded. </p><p>“I care about what they told Emily’s parents, and what they did to me because of what they told them. If they hadn’t lied then they wouldn’t have thought I killed their daughter, they wouldn’t have tried to kill me!” He points at his burnt face and I feel faint. </p><p>The fire wasn’t an accident? That girl’s parents really tried to murder an eight year old boy...</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>Anna flinches at my rising voice and I try to do everything in my power to retain some semblance of control. To not upset her, but I’m so angry I can hardly breathe. I look back at his face, waiting for him to at least say sorry, but of course he doesn’t. </p><p>“No, no I didn’t know. I was just a kid, I swear I didn’t realize. W-we were just kids,” he sputters. He’s shaking his head, and speaking more to her than me. He cares more about her opinion of him than he does about what he did to me.</p><p>“So was I!” I scream out all my pent up anger from the years and Malcolm looks over at Anna, begging with his eyes to try and get her to see his side, to somehow get him out of this, but she just shakes her head at him in disgust. He looks down and doesn’t speak.</p><p>I’m shaking with rage now, every bone in my body is urging me to kill him. He deserves it, he doesn’t even feel bad. I’ll make him feel bad. There are so many reasons my life would be better if he were dead, and it would be so easy, I really could just snap him in half. But there’s one reason I can’t, ‘I know you can be a good man, Brahms. I believe in you.’ I look down at her. If she thinks so, then I have to be better. I try everything I can think of to stop myself, what ends up helping me the most is the fact that Anna looks just as disgusted at him as I am. Finally, someone’s on my side. As long as I have her next to me, I won’t let myself hurt him.</p><p>“Why did you do it,” I whisper. “What was my murderable offense in your eyes, huh? What could I possibly have done to deserve you getting me set on fire?!” My voice breaks in my anger on the last three words. Anna takes my hand in hers and rubs small circles of comfort onto my palm, I try to concentrate on that as I close my eyes.</p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut “I-I was jealous. That your family had money, and mine didn’t...” He admits, I can’t help but scoff in disbelief. This is why?</p><p>“You, jealous of me?” I let out a dark laugh. “Well, how about now? I bet you wouldn’t switch places with me now, would you? Don’t you know what I would give to be you? To be able to simply take a walk down the street and be waved at, to be said ‘Hi’ to? You don’t even realize the gift you have, all you took from me. I don’t even exist! I’d give every cent I have just to spend one day as you” I spit.</p><p>I hear a small strangled noise and look down next to me and see Anna crying. She’s hiding her face in my arm, wiping her tears off on my shirt. The words I was planning to say next die on my lips. I don’t want to upset her anymore, he’s not worth it. He’ll never understand.</p><p>Once I finally feel my anger ebbing though, I look to the side and see Charlie standing at the kitchen doorway. His eyes are crazed, and his face is a twisted mess of pain and rage. Shit. I didn’t know he was still here, he must have heard everything. </p><p>“Charlie, don’t-” I start, but once Malcolm turns and looks at him and they lock eyes, Charlie lunges for him. He knocks him off the chair he was sitting on and straddles him, pinning him to the floor. “I’ll kill you!” He’s screaming at him, and Anna yelps in shock.</p><p>She tugs at my arm, “do something!” I look down at Charlie and think about all he lost that day. About how he’s always drinking, how he can barely function from all his guilt. That if I had been able to be there for him at all in the last twenty years, maybe he wouldn’t have gone through it all alone. I shake my head at Anna and say “I’m sorry.” I know he’s her friend, but he doesn’t even feel bad about what he’s done. He’s still making excuses, I can’t help him.</p><p>She lets out a groan of frustration and rushes over to them both, only a few seconds have passed and Charlie’s already thrashed him. He’s hit him 4 or 5 times, Malcolm’s in a bleeding heap on the ground below him. </p><p>“Charlie, please stop! You’re gonna kill him” she screams. Malcolm’s whimpering and trying to say her name, but before he can even get it out Charlie hits him again, in the mouth. </p><p>Anna grabs Charlie by the shirt and tries to tug at him and he just throws her backward effortlessly. “Oof,” she hits the floor with a painful thud. I surge forward and kneel at her side. </p><p>“Are you okay?” I rub at her back. She looks shocked, and after a few seconds she nods her head. </p><p>“Stop this Brahms, not for him but for your cousin’s sake. He’s going to kill him.” She pleads with her eyes, I look over at them both. I don’t want Charlie to be a murderer like I am, he can’t possibly live with that level of guilt. I look down and see Malcolm has tears, snot and blood all mixed on his face. I sneer at him. He looks behind Charlie’s shoulder at me before quietly sobbing “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” </p><p>I grab Charlie’s fist before it can come down another time and that seems to be the only thing that snaps him out of his fit. He turns to look back at me, his chest rising and blood all over his shirt. Then he looks back at Malcolm, who is whimpering while he waits for what he does next, and snickers in disgust before getting up off of him. He walks right out of the front door and I follow him out.</p><p>“Charlie, wait!” I yell after him. </p><p>“I hate him, who would do something like that? It’s evil!” He’s breathing so hard he looks like he might pass out. </p><p>“I know. Are you okay?” I stupidly ask.</p><p>He looks at me and purses his lips before shaking his head ‘no’ I try to think of the right words to say, but there’s nothing. </p><p>“Why, how could they do that?” He whimpers. He’s looking at my scars. “Emily’s parents always seemed so nice, I don’t understand” his voice breaks. I have no clue what was in their minds, but they truly must have believed I killed her for them to have done it. Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.</p><p>“You could have told me, I could have handled it.” He tells me, wiping off his bloody fists on his shirt.</p><p>“I don’t think you could have, Char. You seem... I mean, I get it. Uncle John’s really sick right now, I understand why you’re going through such a tough time.” I try to relate to him that I’m not judging him, but I clearly see he’s not okay. He couldn’t have handled it, he can’t.</p><p>He looks off in the distance and gets a far away look in his eyes. “I guess you’re right.” He breathes. “It’s not just now though, man. I’ve been having a hard time since that day, and it’s never gone away.” I stand next to him, waiting for him to finally open up to me, to let me in again. I know it’s not easy for him, he’d rather make a joke about it and brush it all off, but this time he doesn’t.</p><p>“After it all happened, I lost all my friends within a year. It was hard enough, losing Emily and you. But afterwards, all my classmates either avoided me or mentioned that you were a ‘killer’ in front of me, so I stopped hanging around them.” He sighs, “I was alone. Completely. I didn’t want to even try to make new friendships, I hated everyone for what they thought about you. All the little comments they made under their breaths, it was unbearable.” His face is pained as he speaks, I never knew... I never really understood just how hard it all must’ve been for him. If I thought I couldn’t have possibly hated Malcolm anymore in that second...</p><p>“Not alone anymore.” I grab him by both shoulders and pull him in. He nods then says “let’s go back inside, my tears are gonna freeze to my damn face.” I nod.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>Once they’re both gone, I walk over to Malcolm. I look down at him and shake my head a little. “You’re a mess.” That was an understatement, I walked over to the sink and ran a towel under the hot water. I kneel down next to him and wipe his face off. His sobs finally quieted down now that it was just him and I. </p><p>“I don’t understand what’s going on...” he says. I don’t feel like I have the answers he’s looking for. </p><p>To be honest, after everything I just overheard I’m finally starting to realize just how little of the picture I’ve been given. I never fully understood why the Heelshire’s would make their own son pretend to be dead, it seemed so needless. I wrote it off thinking maybe they just didn’t want an investigation, or perhaps they didn’t want their precious reputation tarnished by having to continue raising what they deemed to be a ‘troubled’ son. </p><p>And I never in a million years would have thought that someone could have started the fire that day intending to murder a child. The timing always seemed so strangely coincidental, but I never assumed... ugh, it’s all so insidious and inexcusable. But, at the end of the day it was the adult’s responsibilities to handle the situation correctly, and they all failed. Malcolm was only a child, just like the rest of them. He couldn’t have foreseen all this. </p><p>“Have you known the whole time?” He asks me, holding the towel to his nose to staunch the bleeding.</p><p>“Known what?” I ask, kneeling down next to him.</p><p>“That he was here, that he was alive.” He really looks at me then, his eyes squinting in suspicion, and I answer him too harshly “no, of course not. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I came here.” He nods at me and his eyes lower and then widen, anger piqued. </p><p>“Did he do that to you?” He asks accusingly, pointing to my neck. To where my bruises are still healing, bruises the perfect shapes of the indent of a man’s fingers wrapping around me. </p><p>My fingers flew to my throat and I start to shake my head. “No, you don’t understand Malcolm. He didn’t-” he gets up off the floor and tries to grab my hand. </p><p>“You’re coming with me, Anna. You can’t possibly stay in this house with him. This is... it’s all mad! You have to see that. I was right to come here after all, you aren’t safe here.” He says it fully expecting me to follow him, but I can’t. I won’t.</p><p>“No Malcolm!” I tug my hand from his grasp “I’m staying here. Please don’t say anything about him, I’m asking you as your friend.” I’m practically begging him and he lets out a growl of frustration. </p><p>“You’re right, we are friends, and friends don’t let each other get hurt.” He replies sternly. I flinch back at his words.</p><p>“I tried to stop them both, you know that...” He has to know I wouldn’t have let them actually kill him. </p><p>“I’m not talking about me, Anna. <i>You’re</i> the one that <i>I’m</i> not going to let get hurt.” </p><p>Charlie and Brahms walk back into the house at that moment and Malcolm rushes past them both. I nervously await either of them trying to stop him from leaving but to my relief, they just let him pass. </p><p>“I did not tide things over well guys, I might have even accidentally made things worse. I didn’t mean to.” I let out a huge sigh. </p><p>I walk over to Brahms and take his arm in my hand. “Are you okay?” I look up into his eyes and he nods once. </p><p>“Is he gonna say anything?” Charlie asks.</p><p>“I honestly don’t know” I tell them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I take a look around the kitchen to assess the damage. Well, the chair’s been completely smashed to bits, and there are flecks of blood all over the floor... Normally the sight of blood doesn’t really bother me, but looking at it right now I suddenly felt ill.</p><p>I look away to try and distract myself. Anna’s still hanging on tightly to my arm and I ask her, “what exactly happened while we were outside?”</p><p>She seems too lost in thought to answer. My finger twitches at my side, wanting to reach down and smooth out the worried look that’s come over her face and make it go away. But I still don’t know if she wants me touching her after how I acted yesterday.</p><p>“I’d like to know as well,” Charlie interjects. “Just how the hell did he manage to twist things in his mind so he was the one who got to storm out of here all up in arms?” He asks, still obviously angry from before. “He’s lucky I even let him leave,” he mutters under his breath.</p><p>That gets Anna’s attention, she snaps up. “What <em>happened,</em> is that we all fucked up. You two,” she points at us both separately “by coming out and showing your stupid faces in the first place!” We look at each other then and both hang our heads a little, like we used to when we were being scolded together as children. Usually after Charlie convinced me to do something completely idiotic, claiming there’s no way we’d be caught, and inevitably we were.</p><p>Her anger dims a little as she says “but, every one of us managed to make things worse afterwards, including me. And now I think he’s mad enough that he might actually say something about you being here.” She turns to face just me, dropping my arm in the process. “It was my fault” she says, frustrated. “I was just trying to tide things over. I thought it was going okay,” she shakes her head at herself and whispers “then he saw my neck.”</p><p>Charlie’s eyebrows raise in appraisal as he bends down to her height to better look at the marks. I wish he wouldn’t gawk at her like that. She’s shrinking away from his gaze, clearly uncomfortable. His tongue clicks once he sees what it is that she meant and he sighs, exasperated. “Right, I’m sure he thinks <em>you</em> did that, mate.” He says, turning to me. My nails dig into my palms as I realize that must be what she’s trying to say.</p><p>“Yeah well, he said as much. Before trying to grab me and make me leave with him. And when I wouldn’t, I think it really pissed him off. Who knows what he’ll do now,” her voice trails off. I subconsciously step closer to her. She thinks it’s her fault, but it’s really mine. She was right, I never should have come out and let him see me in the first place. If I knew how to control my anger, then none of this would’ve happened.</p><p>“Don’t get upset, I’m not going anywhere.” She latches back onto my arm and rubs up and down soothingly. “I tried to tell him it wasn’t you who hurt me, but I couldn’t exactly tell him who it really was, could I?” She placates me. That’s not entirely the reason I’m sulking, but now that she’s mentioned it, I don’t like the idea of being thought of that way either. And especially that <em>he</em> of all people would have the nerve to falsely accuse me. Again. There are plenty of things that I do wrong, yet I for some reason keep getting persecuted for things I haven’t even done.</p><p>“Anyways, now that he thinks it’s his ‘civic duty’ or whatever to get me out of this house, I don’t really know how far he’ll go. He has no reason to do us any favors by keeping your secret though, especially not now.” She thinks he’s doing all this for her sake, but I have a sneaking feeling it might be just to spite me. She doesn’t have any idea how mean he was when we were children, him and all his disgusting little friends. I wouldn’t be the least surprised if some of that cruelty bled over into adulthood.</p><p>“So, what are we gonna do?” She asks either of us. We share a conspicuous look with one another. “Any suggestions that <em>don’t</em> involve violence or threats,” she amends, and we’re both at a loss all of a sudden.</p><p>Charlie lets out an annoyed groan. He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts dialing while he walks out of the room without saying anything.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” she wraps her arms around my body and looks up at me. “It will all be okay” she tells me, reassuringly. Do I look worried? I was more deep in thought about what I would be doing right now if she hadn’t given a ‘no violence’ edict...</p><p>“I know.” I tell her and she chuckles, seeming surprised.</p><p>“To be honest, I thought you’d be more upset. I was almost too afraid to tell you. What turned you into such an optimist overnight?” She asks me. I don’t think she’d want to hear my answer though. It might make her feel uncomfortable if I told her that I don’t care as much what happens, as long as she’s said she’ll stay with me.</p><p>“Alright kids, I’m heading out.” Charlie walks back into the room. “Once again, off to fix things up for you two, who trouble seems to follow everywhere.” He quirks up his lip before grabbing his jacket and the car keys he’d thrown back in the drawer. “I’m gonna go ask dad what he thinks we should do. This one’s beyond me, I’ll admit, best to get his input. I’ll be back later tonight.” He shuts the door behind him and we both stand in silence.</p><p>With all that’s happened this morning, it’s been easy to put off having to come to grips with all the embarrassing admissions I’d made last night in my drunken stupidity. Now that it’s quiet again, it’s all rushing back to me. Not to mention the worst part, that she’s seen my face. Even now, as she’s looking at me I can’t help but feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. She doesn’t... seem disgusted though.</p><p>“You look pale.” She purses her lips and her brows furrow in concern.</p><p>I nod. “Yeah, haven’t seen much sun lately.”</p><p>A burst of laughter bubbles up from her lips. “No, you idiot. I meant- you don’t look so good. How do you feel?”</p><p>The question undoes me. I’ve been feeling so unbelievably happy that she’s really here, that she came back, I haven’t let any bodily pain even register all morning.</p><p>“Um, I guess I feel a little queasy, now that you mention it.” I reply sheepishly and she frowns.</p><p>“You’re hungover, Brahms. You need medicine and water.” She grabs my wrist and I let her pull us both upstairs into the bathroom. She untwists a cap and hands me 2 pills, then scowls at the look on my face. “I’m not trying to drug you this time.”</p><p>“I know.” I was just caught up in the feeling of being looked after again, I’ll never be used to it. I take both the pills and swallow them down dry.</p><p>“Um, by the way, how exactly is Charlie supposed to be able to consult your uncle on this? I mean, it’s not like he’ll be able to tell him what really happened here today” she asks, confused.</p><p>“He can. I saw my uncle yesterday, he knows about me.” She blinks at me a few times.</p><p>“Really?” She asks and I nod.</p><p>“How was it? Seeing him after so many years.” She leads us both back to the bed and makes me lie down while she sits with her legs crossed across from me.</p><p>“It was weird. Probably even weirder for them, though. And I didn’t like being out around so many people, it felt strange.” I can’t help it, I wince at the memory.</p><p>“Have you been cooped up in this house for so long that you consider a couple of people a ‘crowd?’” She asks, a little amused.</p><p>“No,” I scoff “it wasn’t just us, we were at the hospital. He’s sick, it’s why I had to go to see him. He can’t come here, at least for now. And it wasn’t even all that crowded, it’s just...” I struggled to be able to explain. “Even though it was the most open space I’ve been in for years, I felt all closed in. It was awful.” I prop my elbow up on the pillow and rest my face in my hand.</p><p>She looks at me and says “that’s actually pretty normal, sounds like you were having a panic attack. Probably because you’re so used to being safe in your house, where you control everything.”</p><p>I nod, agreeing and then try to speak, despite my spinning head. All that happened yesterday, and I don’t remember ever apologizing...</p><p>“I really am sorry, you know. About yesterday. I never wanted to scare you, I hope you know that. I just, I don’t know what came over me.”</p><p>“I’ll forgive you for your caveman antics yesterday,” she says jokingly, then suddenly a seriousness enters her voice as she says “but you can never do anything like that ever again, Brahms. Do you understand me?” She gently grabs my face in her hands and I hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears.</p><p>“Tell me you understand.” I nod weakly in assent and she releases me from her hold.</p><p>“By the way, what happened that changed your mind so suddenly anyways?” She leans back on her propped up elbows and says “I’m curious.”</p><p>“I told you, I don’t know what happened. I think maybe, seeing you actually walk out of the house and knowing I’d never see you again.” I try to ignore the cloying feeling of panic in my throat, just remembering it. “I’m not sure-”</p><p>“No Brahms, I didn’t mean that. I was actually wondering, what made you all of a sudden change your mind and let me go? It was like a switch flipped.” She tries to sound nonchalant, but I can tell by her voice how scared she was. I look up at her.</p><p>“You said you trusted me. No one’s ever...” my throat seizes up and I don’t finish my sentence. She reaches across the bed and grabs my hand in hers. Her hand looks so small on top of mine. I can’t believe she’s still willingly touching me, she’s not as afraid of me as I assumed she would be after yesterday. I wonder if she knows how much power she holds over me, that I really would do anything she told me to.</p><p>“Brahms,” she begins “I’m proud of you.” I don’t even know what she’s about to say yet, but the words already have an effect on me. I feel a swell in my chest when I look back up into her eyes.</p><p>“About earlier. Don’t get me wrong, I still wish you hadn’t come out in the first place. But once you did, I admit I really thought for a minute there that you were going to hurt him. Not a lot of people who heard what you just had would have been able to keep any modicum of self in the situation, but you did.” She tells me, looking truly impressed. “I don’t even know if I’d been in your shoes, I could’ve remained as composed. I knew I was right to come back.” She says, with a sincere smile. That melts me completely, I feel like I’m in a puddle.</p><p>“Th-thank you,” I reply quietly.</p><p>“That being said, I think now that I’m staying here it’s time for some new house rules. Now that you’re not drunk anymore, it’s as good a time as any to discuss them.” I get a sudden surge of nervousness at the topic, whatever she’s about to say can’t possibly be good. But I bob my head for her to go on anyway.</p><p>“For one, I’m not sure we should keep sleeping in the same bed every night. I don’t think it’s good for either of us, to have no boundaries.” She stops her explanation when she hears my loud groan.</p><p>“Please, why does it have to be that?” I beg of her. The thought of sleeping on my own again after having spent the past few nights with her sounds inexplicably awful.</p><p>“You’re incorrigible, do you know that?” She scoffs. “Just how much of my time do you want?” She asks, shaking her head. ‘All’ I think...</p><p>She makes a noise of frustration after I don’t answer then gets up off the bed. “Well, come back down when you’re feeling a little better. I’ll try not to make a lot of noise til your headache is gone.” I nod and she shuts the door. I grab her pillow and inhale before closing my eyes and dozing back off.</p><p>When I wake up, I hear two voices downstairs. I get up and walk down to see Charlie standing with Anna in the living room, his arms folded and a gloomy expression on his face.</p><p>“What did uncle John think?” I walk in, interrupting to ask him. He turns to face me.</p><p>“Pretty much the same as I think. The weasel surely won’t do anything right away. And Dad agrees that even if he does say something, who will really believe him?”</p><p>Anna doesn’t look so convinced. And Charlie looks even worse.</p><p>“Why are you in such a bad mood still then?” I ask. He rolls his eyes in annoyance at me. I probably should’ve just kept my observations to myself, as usual.</p><p>“Mum said his doctors want to move up his surgery to before Christmas now. A few different reasons why, none of them good.” Then Anna dives into a long diatribe with Charlie about tests this and levels that. I sit down on the steps and guiltily zone out of the conversation after a few moments, still feeling groggy. I absentmindedly wonder how she knows so much about all this stuff.</p><p>“I’ll come by in a few days so we can go to the hospital together. See ya” he says, tossing the keys back on the table.</p><p>“Bye” I say, watching him go.</p><p>Once the front door is shut, I ask Anna “could I lay down on your lap on the couch?” Trying to make my voice sound as pitiful as possible. I don’t feel all that sick any longer, but she doesn’t know that.</p><p>She gives me a stern look. “I guess. Only for a few minutes though,” she says, surprising me. “You’re too big, you’ll cut my leg circulation off.” We walk to the living room and sit, she grabs her book that was sitting on the coffee table and rests it open on my head. I hear her chuckle slightly after a moment when I don’t complain and just let her leave it there.</p><p>I sit in thought while she reads silently. Charlie and her were talking for so long, I feel bad for not paying attention, but I just couldn’t follow any of it. We have a few medical books lying around that I’ve skimmed through, so I have some basic knowledge. But whatever they were going on about didn’t sound ‘basic.’</p><p>I move the book to the side to be able to look her in the eyes. She huffs in mock annoyance but doesn’t try and grab it from me as I close it and set it down.</p><p>“You seemed to know what you were talking about earlier,” I say offhandedly. “I mean, know a lot about the terminology and stuff, things that I don’t.” She looks at me with her lips downturned and nods once, but doesn’t make a point to speak. I want to ask her a question, but I don’t have the tact to ask it delicately enough.</p><p>She said it was always okay to at least ask though, and if she doesn’t want to answer, then she won’t. “You knew someone who had cancer?” I ask, waiting for her response. She nods down at me again. Then, nothing. She doesn’t go back to reading, just stares off at the wall, completely still. I shift a little in her lap and it still doesn’t jostle her out of her state. I finally just ask, “was it your father?”</p><p>She slowly looks down at me and I wait a few moments before speaking again, her expression is completely unreadable. “You never mentioned how he died. Just that he died.” Now finally, I’ve managed to get some life back into her face with the mention of my ‘unearned knowledge’ as she’d call it.</p><p>“Oh I’m sorry, was my private journal not detailed enough for you?” She asks me bitterly.</p><p>He was the one thing that she didn’t really mention all that much. Overall, there were only small bits and pieces written about him. Just barely enough for me to infer that he died when she was very young. And that it was apparently the catalyst for her mother changing from a warm, overly affectionate parent, into someone who barely had any love to give. And any love she had left to dole out to her children, she only seemed to spare much to one.</p><p>“You don’t have to talk about it,” I amend. “I’m sorry.” I can feel in her body that she’s uncomfortable, she’s all tensed. I didn’t mean to cause her any pain by my curiosity. The annoyance is gone now when she looks at me, all I see is her grieved expression and suddenly I wish I’d never spoken.</p><p>“Yes, he did. It’s how he died, I was six.” I go to lean up so I can sit beside her, but she gently pushes me back down. I wait for what feels like a long time for her to say anything else. Just when I’ve about given up, she speaks again.</p><p>“He found out he was sick just a few weeks after my mother found out she was pregnant with Brandon. We didn’t know any of this at the time, though. I learned most of what actually happened years later. Funnily enough, from all his old journals. I know I’ve raked you over the coals for what you did to me, Brahms, but at the end of the day I’m no better.” I slyly slip my fingers into the open palm of her free hand, and she absentmindedly grips onto it as she continues speaking.</p><p>“I found a bunch of them in his old things when my mother sold the house, a couple years ago now. I read through them all in just a couple of days. From when he was as young as my age now, he had kept them all and catalogued his life. I felt like I was finally getting a real piece of him. My mother almost never spoke about him. And very rarely when she would accidentally mention something about him, she would get so resentful of me, like I had tricked it out of her or something.” She scoffs. “But I didn’t care. I so badly wanted to know more about him, I would take it any way I could get it. I was really young when he died, I don’t have a lot of memories.” She sighs, and I lean my head into her touch. She starts twirling my hair in her fingers absentmindedly.</p><p>“When he found out how sick he was, he just didn’t want to believe it. He was always so strong and healthy. His doctor told him he needed to start treatments right away. That it was imperative for him to extend what life he would have and if he didn’t, he would die. Very soon. It’s not like he left the doctors that day not knowing they were telling him the truth, but he was the type of person who always acted invincible. He should have started chemo, radiation, anything really. But instead he just... did nothing, told no one. And went on like that, for as long as he could before it caught up with him.” She looks bone white.</p><p>“Why?” I ask her. I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I don’t understand. Why would someone do that? He had a family who loved him, a life. Who would willingly throw all that away?</p><p>“I guess I’ll never know, for sure. He wrote that it was because my mom’s pregnancy at the time was very high risk, and he couldn’t bare the possibility of putting her under any more stress and hurting her or the baby. But I think it was more than that, he was just afraid. And too ‘strong’ to ask for help from any of us. He quite literally would’ve rather died then just ask for help. Ha.” She laughs humorlessly. “The only reason I know so much about all the medical stuff now, is because I did a bunch of research on it all once I finished reading what he wrote. I wanted to know what his odds were, if he had just listened to his doctors and did what they told him. I probably shouldn’t have though, it only made me angrier at him. To know that he really did just let himself wither away and die like that. I suppose wither isn’t exactly the right word though, it’s not like he looked all that sick. No one even suspected, until it was way too late. He held out really hard to be able to meet Brandon,” Anna was crying now, tears streaming down her cheek and falling onto my face while she spoke. “But he didn’t get to. He wanted to at least hold him in his arms, if only once.” A sob rips through her and I feel like I’ve been stabbed at the noise. I grab her other hand from where it’s tangled in my hair and hold it in my own. She looks down at me then, and actually cracks a smile.</p><p>“Oops. Sorry, Brahms.” She takes her sleeve and wipes her tears from where they landed on my face, laughing softly. “I didn’t mean to rain down on you,” she tells me.</p><p>“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Keep going, please” I ask her. She huffs out a breath, seemingly annoyed that the subject didn’t magically drop before its conclusion.</p><p>“He died 4 weeks before my mother’s due date. Ironically enough, the stress of it all induced her into an early labor, so she ended up giving birth only a few days after my father died. God, she was so angry at him. I’ve still to this day never seen anyone as angry as she was when she found out everything. He collapsed at work one day and when we went to the hospital to meet him, the doctors told her about his diagnosis assuming she knew that’s why he was in such bad shape. She was furious at them, saying they must have it wrong. Once my dad woke up she walked right into the room and slapped him, so hard I heard his teeth click. One of the nurses took me out into the hall, but I heard every word she screamed at him. The doctors had told her, that if he hadn’t refused treatment so many months earlier that he wouldn’t be in the condition he was in now. She left that day and didn’t come back to see him again. My grandmother took me to visit him, the last few times. I didn’t understand at all what was going on, it all happened so fast. All of a sudden he was trying to tell me goodbye and I didn’t understand why. The last time I saw him, he told me to tell mommy that he’s sorry, that he never got to say ‘sorry’ to her before she left that day. And for me to take care of my little brother. I promised I would, and look how that turned out.” She squeezes my hand in hers so hard. The look on her face is just, empty. I want to reach up and wipe her tears, to comfort her, but I don’t think she’d even feel it if I touched her right now.</p><p>It’s hard not to hate her mother. Not only hearing this, but knowing that she’s the main reason that Anna blames herself so much for what happened to her brother. “What did your mom say?” I ask. “When you told her your father said he was sorry.”</p><p>“She didn’t say anything, she acted like she didn’t even hear me. She became a completely different person after she had Brandon. Because he was born prematurely, they had to keep him in an incubator for a while. She was so sure he was going to die, it drove her to the point where even once he was all better, she was still convinced something bad was going to happen to him. He was already close to a year old before she even let me hold him. She was too afraid to even take him outside of the house for awhile, it was bad.” Her brows are furrowed in concentration, remembering it all in vivid detail.</p><p>“I always knew she loved him more than me. If she could have picked between us two, she wouldn’t have chosen me to be the one that survived the crash.” Neither would Anna, according to all she’s said.</p><p>“You can’t know that. I’m sure she loves you too, even if she could never show it.” I try in vain to comfort her. She looks down at me, pain clearly etched in her features.</p><p>“I do know, though. I overheard her say something one night on the phone with a friend of hers. She was talking about how she could hardly stand leaving Brandon alone for even a few minutes. Her friend tried to reassure her that’s always how it is for mothers at first, and it will fade with time. She told her that’s not true, ‘I wasn’t this way with Anna.’ And her friend tried to tell her, not to forget that she still had two children to look after. All my mom said was that I was always my dad’s, but that Brandon was all hers. What could be clearer than that?” She asks, and makes a dull hum of pain in the back of her throat. I place my hand on her shoulder and wait for a long while for her to look down at me, rubbing up and down her arm all the while. She finally glances down and smiles at me softly, as if she’s finally seeing that I’m still there with her.</p><p>“Where’d you learn how to comfort someone?” She places her own hand over mine on her arm and she tilts her head to the side.</p><p>“Um, you always rub your hand on someone’s arm when you’re trying to make them feel better, so...” She blinks a few times, always so shocked that I noticed a detail so small about her. She shouldn’t be though, I notice everything.</p><p>“I do?” She asks me curiously. She must not even realize she does it. I nod at her and then close my eyes. We sit in comfortable silence after that for a long time. I almost jump in surprise when I hear her voice again, I was half asleep.</p><p>“Do you miss them? Your parents.” I open my eyes at her unexpected question.</p><p>“I mean I missed them when they were still here, so it’s not all that different.” I tell her. She looks at me sadly.</p><p>“As much as I wanted them punished for what they did to me, I didn’t want them to just die. That wasn’t justice, it was them getting away before any consequences could catch up with them. They just didn’t want to be here with me.” I realized that awhile ago, but it still stings, saying it.</p><p>“I don’t think there are consequences big enough for what they did, Brahms.” She says, her hatred for them leaking through in her words. I’m not stupid, I’m sure she sees even more than I do, all the ways that they’ve managed to mess me up.</p><p>“I made them pay in my own way, I suppose. Throughout the years. But I found that the more I hurt them, the more they only just avoided me. It never made them take a look at themselves and maybe wonder why I was so angry with them, it only cemented in their minds that I was mentally unhinged and them keeping me away from other people <em>was</em> the right thing to do.” I suppose all the things I did to the nannies didn’t help. I sigh and play with her hands, absentmindedly rubbing circles on her palm.</p><p>“I’ve learned many things in the past 20 years being stuck here, and one of them is that you can’t intimidate love out of someone. My parents were terrified of me, and as the time went on and I got bigger and smarter, they gave me more of the things I wanted. But it was never out of love, it was only ever out of fear. I can’t force someone to want to be around me. I learned that the hard way, yesterday.” I say the last part so quietly I’m not sure she hears me, until she speaks.</p><p>“I’m here with you because I want to be, Brahms.” She reassures me. I can’t help it, a shudder racks through my body at her words, that are practically a gift she’s given me. I’ve wanted to hear those exact words from someone for so long.</p><p>“I don’t think you realize the affect it has on me when you say things like that,” I admit to her, my voice quiet and choked up, despite my best effort.</p><p>She purses her lips and I lean to sit back up. I’ve crushed her long enough, even though I’d prefer to stay where I am, I better free her. She can’t tell I can feel it, but she keeps flexing her thigh muscles, her legs have probably fallen asleep and she’s being too nice to tell me. I prop myself up with one elbow on her side.</p><p>Before I can get completely off her, she grabs my chin softly and holds my face in place in front of hers. We’re so close, my breathing stops.</p><p>“I just want you to know, that I’d never ever leave you like that. Without a word of warning, just leaving a note behind. Never.” The intensity of what she’s just said reaches at the deepest parts of me, at my inner most fears. My throat tightens up and I work to nod my head at her, she must be able to tell that I can’t speak.</p><p>I get up finally and sit beside her. She playfully bumps her elbow into my side before standing. “Can you eat? Or do you still feel sick,” she asks.</p><p>‘I haven’t felt sick for awhile,’ I think guiltily. I nod as she gets up to go into the kitchen and make some food. I sit there for a moment longer and think about the question she asked me. Do I miss them? No, definitely not in the way she misses her father. But I do wish they were still here, in a way. I feel like they just got away with it all, and now I’m left to deal with the aftermath while they don’t have to.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I’m sitting at the piano later in the day, just watching the sun setting through the window. I lightly trace the keys absentmindedly. Brahms is laying on the couch, just watching me. Probably hoping I’ll decide to play.</p><p>“You know, if you weren’t making me feel self conscious with all the constant staring, then I <em>might</em> actually play.” I tease him. He suddenly pretends to be busy looking off in a corner, and I shake my head at how much of a dork he is.</p><p>My phone vibrates and I check the screen. Oh shoot, I didn’t think she’d agree to come so soon...</p><p>“Um, Brahms” I lace all the sweetness that I can possibly stomach into my next words “can I have a favor?” I knit my brows together, to show him that I’m worried he might say no. Maybe that will have an affect on him.</p><p>His complexion brightens up a bit at that, he immediately sits up. He’d love to do just about anything for me, I know that. And he’ll love it even more that I’m actually asking him for something. Al though, once he hears what it is I want I’m not sure he’ll be so accommodating.</p><p>He happily tells me “sure, anything.”</p><p>I give him a small smirk. “Promise?” I ask. He starts to look suspicious.</p><p>“What...” he starts. Before he can finish I flash him my phone, which has the text Madi just sent me on the screen saying “yeah sure! How bout tomorrow night then? I’m not busy xx” he squints his eyes for a moment to read the bright screen, then once he does he looks over at me.</p><p>“Who?” His voice sounds confused, but not necessarily as angry as I imagined he’d be. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.</p><p>I huff. “Can’t you see the name? At the top of the screen.” He looks to where I point and squints again, even more confused. Well, at least now I know for sure he’s never snooped through my phone before.</p><p>“Okay,” he tells me “and who is that?”</p><p>I roll my eyes at him. “Jesus, Brahms. It’s Madi, Madi McGreene...” His eyes widen in comprehension and he starts to shake his head.</p><p>“Malcolm’s sister? Why does it have to be her!” I frown at the venom in his tone. I wrongly assumed he’d be more upset at the fact that I wanted someone, anyone over. But he’s still so mad at Malcolm, that anger’s managed to spill over into his whole family tree.</p><p>“That’s exactly why I need her over here, I need to get to Malcolm through her. It’s our only option. I can’t just sit back and wait, not knowing what he’s going to do.”</p><p>He just shakes his head again petulantly. “I just don’t see how her coming here could possibly help us. Besides, it’s like Charlie said- what could that little twerp really do, at the end of the day?” My mouth twitches, wanting to laugh, but I stop myself. I can’t believe at this very moment that I can’t physically see the hate radiating off his body.</p><p>“Mmm, that may be so. But she’s also my friend, Brahms. She was really nice to me yesterday, when I really needed a friend, and I like her. She’s not like... you know who.” Better to not even say the name again, not when he’s in this bad of a mood. “You can’t just write people off without even giving them a chance” I tell him. He folds his arms across his chest and just stares at me. I hate it when he refuses to speak, he uses silence as a bargaining chip. Well, I won’t let him.</p><p>“Are you sure this isn’t about you not wanting me to have any friends besides you?” I finally just ask.</p><p>He flinches. “That is not true.”</p><p>“Tell me then, who would you be okay with taking up my time, other than yourself?” I ask, a bit annoyed that he won’t just admit that’s what this is.</p><p>“Well... I like your other friend, the dark haired one whose face I always see on your little phone screen. You always get happy and start blabbering a lot when you talk to her, so I like it when you two speak.” I almost let him see me cringe, but I resist my natural reaction just in time before it can make him feel bad. But the thought of him listening to all of mine and Eva’s conversations really does disturb me. Eva and I talk about a lot of weird, random stuff. I shudder to think what he could’ve overheard. But, as usual, I don’t think he even has a clue that he’s done the wrong thing. I tuck it away though, to be dealt with at another time.</p><p>“You can’t just hate everybody without a reason.” I try to get through to him, worrying for the first time about what his life might look like after I really do leave here one day. It’s not like I can stay here with him forever, I’ll have to go back to the U.S. one day...</p><p>“Mhm” he hums, deep in thought, then goes silent. I closely observe his change of mood, and feel helpless suddenly. I throw a pillow at him to try and gain back his attention.</p><p>“You don’t have to always go despondent every time I tell you something you don’t want to hear either, you know” I try to tease him. He grabs the pillow I’ve just thrown and hugs it to his chest.</p><p>“Sorry,” he halfheartedly comes back to the present. “Old habit.”</p><p>I frown at him. “Please,” I ask, the seriousness back in my voice. “She’s the only way to get to him for the time being.” I’ve tried calling him a bunch of times since he’s left, all gone to voicemail. He’s obviously ignoring me. But maybe, if I can speak to his sister...</p><p>“Brahms, you always help me when you can, so let me try and help you now. It’s important to me.” If I can get Madi to come, then she can give her brother a letter from me. That will hopefully be enough to at least get Malcolm to calm down before doing anything drastic. I know both Brahms and Charlie seem to think that everything will be just fine, but I’m not so convinced. They didn’t hear him before, he sounded pretty determined to me.</p><p>I look over at Brahms sitting on the couch and wait for our eyes to meet. His features soften slightly when he finally looks at up me. His lips thin out in a line and he stares at my face for a few silent moments before barely nodding his head ‘yes’ once. I let out a sigh of relief and send back a quick message before he can change his mind just saying “tomorrow then, can’t wait!”</p><p>That night, with both of us sleeping separately, I can’t manage a wink of sleep. It seemed like such a smart idea earlier, too. I needed to stop overstepping boundaries, that’s probably why I’ve been feeling so weird. We were sleeping in the same bed together every night, anyone would start to feel a little... strangely about someone. But now, jokes on me I guess cause I can’t seem to get warm no matter what I do. Why is it always so freezing in this damn house! And I already know I’ll have nightmares tonight, if I can even manage to fall asleep at all.</p><p>“Ugh!” I thrash around in the covers, frustrated. Finally, with a pained sigh I get up out of the bed and just give up on the whole idea of falling asleep on my own. I walk to my bathroom and slam open the medicine cabinet, then snap off half a sleeping pill. As I sit on the edge of the tub, I think to myself ‘this is the first night I’ve taken one of these in a couple days, I wonder-’ right as I’m thinking it, I quickly shut down my thoughts. Before I can come to the conclusion that sleeping in the same bed as him might’ve made me feel so safe that I hadn’t needed to take anything to help me sleep. I groan and defeatedly crawl back under the covers.</p><p>The next morning reluctantly comes and when I open my eyes I notice that I have another blanket lying over me that wasn’t there the night before. ‘I guess he must’ve put this on me,’ I blink a few times. I wonder what he would do if I just nailed the secret entry to this bedroom shut. ‘Probably just break through the walls like a lunatic’ I realize with a sigh. I sluggishly make my way down the stairs, feeling half-dead from all my tossing and turning last night. I start to brew a cup of coffee, my mind in a fog as I stare blankly at the counter.</p><p>Suddenly without any warning, I see a figure standing beside me and jolt. “God!” Brahms is standing right next to me. I look up at his face and see he must’ve not gotten much sleep either, he looks as exhausted as I am. “You scared me! You’re so quiet I never know you’re here til I see you,” I laugh and hit him playfully.</p><p>“Sorry,” he replies. “I can try and make more noise when I come down from now on, so I don’t scare you again.”</p><p>I walk around him to the fridge. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind it that much. In fact, when I think about it, it’s kind of nice.”</p><p>“Really? Why” he asks.</p><p>“Well, it’s hard to explain but... the noise of someone coming down the hall or the sound of loud footsteps walking around makes me feel kind of nervous. Like I’ve done something wrong and I’m about to get in trouble. Ha.” I laugh nervously, trying to blow it off because it sounds so silly. But it is true, anytime James got home he would immediately make his presence known and if he was in a bad mood, then my day would essentially be over at that point. Now, even the sound of a door closing or someone walking up to me is enough to make my heart start to pound.</p><p>Brahms frowns and says to me “there’s nothing you could do that would ever make me mad.” I nod at him, swallowing nervously and start to make breakfast.</p><p>I set down a plate of food and he starts to eat. “Brahms, does your mother own a turtle neck?” He shrugs, not knowing. She was a rich white woman, she must have a few. I go into his parents old bedroom and walk into the closet. I come out a moment later and his face scrunches up at the sight of me.</p><p>“Ew” he says “I hate it.” I let out a loud laugh.</p><p>“What’s wrong with it?” I ask, looking down at the cream colored turtle neck. It was comfy, at least. And most importantly, it would cover my neck tonight in front of Madi. I’m not making the same stupid mistake twice.</p><p>“I don’t like seeing you in my mother’s clothes, I’m not even hungry anymore...” he pushes his plate and I smirk at him.</p><p>“So, Freud was wrong then” I say. He playfully swats at me and I laugh. I had almost forgotten, for as much as he clearly disliked his father, he must not have very much good feeling for his mother either. He was a rare chaotic combo of both mother and father issues, like I was.</p><p>I slowly walk closer to him and sigh. I stare at him, sitting in the chair with his hands folded in his lap. One of the few times I’m in the position to look down on him, instead of the other way around.</p><p>He looks up at me, unblinking. “Yes?” He finally says.</p><p>I place my hand on his shoulder and say into his ear “no eavesdropping tonight” in a stern tone, before heading up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Madi brought a bunch of fruity liquor with her, apparently she nicked it from her brother’s store when he wasn’t looking. Good, serves him right for ignoring me.</p><p>“Raspberry or Mango?” She asks me with a grin.</p><p>About an hour passes of us just talking and laughing, and I finally get up to go the kitchen for something. It wasn’t until then that I felt just how much the alcohol had gotten to me. I walk back into the living room feeling light and floaty.</p><p>“Oh hey, before I forget could you do me a favor?” I ask her, wide eyed and innocent. I need to do this now, before I drink more and end up forgetting. That’d be just my luck.</p><p>She nods her head and says “sure.”</p><p>“Your brother and I kind of had a bit of a fight. It’s no big deal, but he’s ignoring my calls. Do you think you could give this letter to him for me?” All I’d ended up writing on the piece of paper was ‘please don’t do anything until you’ve at least spoken with me, Malcolm.’ Better to keep it simple and vague, just in case Madi reads it before giving it to him.</p><p>“That loser does the same thing to me when he’s pissed off, don’t take it too much to heart.” I bob my head, trying to agree. He didn’t seem too mad at me before he left, but I haven’t heard from him since so I don’t know what to think.</p><p>She takes it and stuffs it in her purse, no questions asked. While she’s in her bag, she grabs a tiny bag of candy and offers me some. Little watermelon sour candies, mmm.</p><p>“Ooh, thanks.” I say absentmindedly, and grab a small handful to toss directly in my mouth. She holds her hands out to try and stop me, then slaps her hand over her mouth and starts to laugh uncontrollably as I chew slowly then swallow. “What? They’re not that sour” I say, confused at her reaction.</p><p>“Um, it’s nothing.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “You know your own tolerance more than I do, I guess.” I used to peel and eat lemons as a child, I don’t think anything could be ‘too sour’ to me now, but whatever. I lean back on the couch and stretch out my limbs.</p><p>“So,” she starts “my brother’s face is sure a mess” she says. I nod, unspeaking. “What happened when he came here the other day?” She probes. “He won’t tell me, no matter how much I bug him about it.”</p><p>I mentally let out a sigh of relief. So Malcolm didn’t immediately blab, then. And if he hasn’t mentioned anything by now then things should be fine, right?</p><p>“Did he say anything at all?” I ask her conspiratorially.</p><p>She pouts. “No, which must mean it’s really good. Come on! Please tell me, I need a good laugh. And I’m sure whatever he did to get his face looking like that, he must’ve deserved it. Sooo...”</p><p>I frown. What could I possibly tell her? In my opinion, he did deserve it. But I could never tell her the real story. Before I can think of a lie though, she just barrels on.</p><p>“He said when he came over that you were here with Charlie, and that’s about all he said.” I look at her, hoping she’ll just come to her own conclusion that I can hop onto.</p><p>“I can tell my brother likes you,” she says, and my stomach drops. “I’m not oblivious. There’s a reason I already knew who you were when you stopped by the shop.” Ugh, great. That made me feel fucking awful.</p><p>“Were you and Charlie... together? Is that why a fight broke out, did my brother find you two in bed or something?” Her eyes widen as she waits for me to deny it.</p><p>“Jesus! Of course not. The whole thing had nothing to do with me. And it definitely didn’t have to do with... what you just said, I really didn’t even know Malcolm felt that way.” Not for sure, anyway. I let the sentence end there, no need to go on and say the words, Madi is a girl too and can surely tell where I was going with things.</p><p>She nods in thought. “I knew it, you’re too pretty for him. I tried to tell him, poor soul.” I slap her leg playfully and we both start laughing.</p><p>“Your brother has been a good friend to me, though. And I do care about him” I start to say. My throat feels a little tight all of a sudden, the turtle neck doesn’t help. It was true though, at the end of the day I do think of Malcolm as a friend. I can’t stand how things ended up yesterday, especially when the only reason he rushed over here in the first place was to check on me...</p><p>“So, tell me. What is your type then?” She asks. “I wanna know.”</p><p>I take another sip of my drink and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand. “You tell me first,” I say to her, feeling suddenly unable to form sentences. I look at the spinning ceiling and close my eyes, waiting for her to speak.</p><p>She hums in thought. “Okay, well. I like guys who won’t let me push them around. I like guys with good jobs, and ones who aren’t too obsessed with how they look. My last boyfriend spent so much time at the gym I hardly saw him. Although, turns out half the time he was ‘at the gym’ it was just him cheating on me.”</p><p>I look back at her and make a noise of disgust “pig.” She nods fervently, “you don’t know the half of it. Now, I like loyalty more than looks, after that life lesson. I don’t mind looks though, if someone is tan and has good teeth then they’ve pretty much got me.” She sighs dreamily.</p><p>“Ok, now you” she says. I look at her face and suddenly feel a strangeness come over me. “Um, well.” I clenched and unclenched my fingers, trying to get a handle on myself. I didn’t drink that much, did I?</p><p>“Um... I guess I like a guy who’s smart, and romantic.” I trail off, looking at the lamp behind her. I don’t remember turning that on, what a weird thought to have though. I shake my head and turn back to her, she was speaking to me and I didn’t notice.</p><p>“Don’t we all. Get to the looks though,” she urges me.</p><p>“I like tall guys. And uh, I guess I like dark hair.” My face is getting more and more hot. He wouldn’t really be listening, would he? Not after I told him specifically not to. “With pretty eyes,” I tell her.</p><p>“Why are you whispering?” She asks, then bursts out into a fit of laughter. I lean back, then realize that I’d been practically on top of her, in her ear. “There’s no one here but us! Don’t be shy.” My face gets even redder and I blink at her in a daze.</p><p>“Oh shit,” she finally takes a look at me and then says “those gummies are probably all hitting at once. You should’ve paced yourself though! I tried to warn you,” she laughs at me. The tasty candy?</p><p>It all clicks then. ‘Oh shit,’ I think suddenly. They shouldn’t make them taste so good, if they’re medicinal. It’s not right!</p><p>“How many milligrams were in each one?” I ask, feeling nervous. I don’t like getting high very often. I’m already naturally a very paranoid person and it only makes it that much worse, so I try to avoid it when I can.</p><p>She smirks at me. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know. Just relax and try not to think about it.” Sure, sure. Relax. Easier said than done, though.</p><p>We continue drinking and talking for another few hours. She looks at the clock and curses, “I’ve gotta work in the morning,” she sighs “I better head out.” I purse my lips and nod as she gets up to leave.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I ask her one more time. “Trust me, my tolerance is so high I don’t even feel a buzz. Can you come out with me sometime next week? We can drive over to the mall and go Christmas shopping together.”</p><p>I look at how beautiful the snow is outside and my mind continues to wander as I answer her. “Sounds good. Just drive safe, okay? Text me that you got back home in one piece, please.” She gives me a hug and I watch her car pull away.</p><p>Once she’s gone I stumble back into the house. I see someone sitting on the couch and I jump. “Fuck! Brahms, what are you already doing out here? What if she had forgotten her keys or something?” I ask, scolding him.</p><p>“I heard her drive away.” He pats the cushion next to him and I flop down.</p><p>“My body feels boneless” I sigh.</p><p>He laughs softly and asks “like a jellyfish?”</p><p>“Mm, yeah. Jellyfish are brainless too, you know. So that fits, cus I can barely form a thought. I wonder how many of those candies I had,” I wonder aloud.</p><p>“You had 5,” he tells me.</p><p>I mutter “oh yeah, yeah. 4 too many, then.” I lay there quietly for a few seconds before I shoot up and glare at him.</p><p>“How did you know that? Brahms, please tell me you weren’t eavesdropping after I asked you not to. I really will throttle you this time.”</p><p>I look over and he just stares blankly back at me. “You aren’t even sinister enough to keep it a secret for longer than a few minutes, how can you be such a mastermind of spying? It’s beyond me.” I sigh and close my eyes again. The room is spinning too much, I’ll throttle him later. “Peeping Tom.” I mutter at him.</p><p>“What’s that?” He asks me, and I tell him “it’s basically a watcher,” I put it kindly. He has no retort to that, it’s very fitting.</p><p>I lean down and rest my head in his lap. “Is this okay? You do owe me, you know. I let you do this before when the room was spinning for you.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” he swallows loudly. “Why is the room spinning? Are you so tiny that only a few of those drinks got you drunk.”</p><p>I open one eye to look at him, “no you jerk, it has nothing to do with the drinks. It’s the candy’s fault. There was drugs in them, I didn’t know until after I’d already eaten a bunch.”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything, just pets my head like I did to him before. I groan quietly at the contact, it does feel nice. ‘Anything I do to him that feels good, he ends up doing back to me’ I realized then. It sounds like he didn’t have many small acts of physical affection growing up, so he can only mirror back the things that I do for him now. The things he likes, that he assumes I’ll like as well I suppose. I feel sad suddenly, thinking about what it would be like to go for decades without even the simplest of touches. Is that why he’s so desperate to sleep in the same bed as me at night? For someone like him, spending any amount of time completely by himself now must be almost unbearable.</p><p>“What did you think of her?” I ask him. Trying to get my mind onto another, less depressing topic. “Madi.”</p><p>I feel him shrug his shoulders and I glare up at him, expecting at least a word or two out of him. “That’s it? She’s very nice, and not to mention pretty. I mean, don’t you think so?” I was trying to get him to agree, I needed to know that he was only acting this way with me because I happened to be the only girl he knew. That had to be the reason. What if it was though? I don’t like that, either...</p><p>“I don’t know.” He says. I puff out a breath of frustration.</p><p>“You don’t know? Couldn’t you see her sitting next to me?” Out of one of his little spying holes in the wall. How unnerving.</p><p>“I wasn’t really looking at her,” he says, twisting a piece of my hair in his hands.</p><p>“Well, you did see her a little though. And she’s definitely what most would describe as beautiful, what are you so stuck up for?” I purse my lips waiting for him to answer.</p><p>“I’m not stuck up. She’s just not my <em>type</em>.” He enunciates the last word and my embarrassment rises to the forefront as I realize he must have over heard everything from before.</p><p>I decide to prod him again, to try and gain control back of the conversation. “Well if she isn’t your type then what the hell is?” I ask, feeling a bit annoyed and I don’t know why. Trying to get confirmation that he only acts this way with me because I just so happen to be the only girl he knows is sort of my way of getting out of having to feel guilty.</p><p>If us sleeping in the same bed every night and all the little ways we touch really did mean something different to him, then I shouldn’t keep allowing it, right? ‘But I want to,’ I think. ‘I don’t want to sleep apart, I don’t want to stop touching him. It feels nice.’ I lean into his warm hand, my filter is completely gone, never having been this high before.</p><p>“Well?” I ask.</p><p>He sighs, annoyed. “Her hair is too light.”</p><p>“So you like brunettes?” I smirk up at him, finally feeling like I’m getting somewhere.</p><p>“I didn’t say that,” he continues twirling the small piece of my hair between his fingers, tickling me with the ends of it. “and she doesn’t have freckles.” My face heats a little as a realize what he’s doing. “She doesn’t have dimples, either.” He raises his hand up to graze my cheekbone, but then he drops it before our skin can touch.</p><p>“Come on, let’s get you to bed. You really must be out of it, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking me all this. You’ll be just as embarrassed tomorrow as I was yesterday morning.” He smiles, a little too happy at the thought.</p><p>He goes to help me up off the couch and I shove at him. “I am perfectly fine, trust me.” He just laughs and says “sure.” I walk ahead of him up the steps and the split second before I trip on my feet and stumble forward, I feel him grabbing me by the hips and steadying me. I look back at him and say “I was fine! I didn't need any help. And I can walk to my room on my own too, now go away.” I tell him, annoyed that I did end up needing help after all.</p><p>“No. Now keep walking or I’ll just have to pick you up and carry you.” I widen my eyes and quickly run the rest of the way up the steps. Once we safely get to the bedroom, he says good night to me then turns to leave.</p><p>I bite my lip. “Stay. If you want,” I tell him.</p><p>He freezes at the doorstep. “You were the one who told me we shouldn’t sleep in the same bed anymore.” He says, conflicted.</p><p>“I changed my mind, I’m allowed to do that. If you don’t want to, then that’s fi-” he cuts me off “I didn’t say that. I want to stay, I couldn’t sleep at all last night” he admits.</p><p>“Me neither,” I tell him, folding back the covers for him to climb in. Once we’re both settled in the bed, I sprawl out and lay my arm and leg over him.</p><p>“Do you like me, Brahms?” I ask. After a few seconds of him not answering, I look up and see his face is flushed.</p><p>“You already know,” he replies softly. Our faces are so close, our noses are almost touching.</p><p>“Tell me” I command, needing to hear him say it.</p><p>He groans, mortified. A few more seconds pass before he says, rawly “I do.”</p><p>“But... why?” I say, feeling just barely brave enough to ask. The answer shouldn’t matter to me, it really shouldn’t. But still, it stings to think that he might only treat me like he does because he finds me attractive, and that’s all it is. Something his mother said, about the other nannies not being as ‘young or pretty’ has stuck with me. If Brahms didn’t like the way I looked, if I wasn’t his ‘type’ would he have ended up pushing me down the stairs? Wanting to get rid of me? I look into his eyes while I wait for him to speak.</p><p>A look of fondness comes over him at my question. “Because, you’re kind.” He states simply. “When it would be so easy, so justified for you to not to be, after how you’ve been treated by the world.” I blink a few times and wonder up at him.</p><p>Does he wish he could be kinder to people as well, even though he’s been treated so badly?</p><p>“I saw it from the first day you came here,” he says. “Even when my mother was rude to you, you only treated her with respect back. You didn’t laugh at my parents even though they introduced a doll as their son.”</p><p>I remember that moment, I was so taken back that I had to carefully school my features into neutrality, to not offend them. But it wasn’t so I wouldn’t laugh, it was to not show them how strange I found the whole thing and make them feel uncomfortable. I never would’ve guessed that Brahms still cared enough to feel hurt on behalf of his parents, though. No matter what front he puts on, he must care still. If only a little.</p><p>“Did the other nannies laugh at them?” I ask him. He stills for a moment, before finally nodding at me when I look up at his face. “Madi told me about them. About them all leaving, I mean” I explain.</p><p>“Oh” Is all he says. I give him a few seconds to continue on speaking, but when he doesn’t I prompt “you can tell me anything, it won’t make me afraid of you.” I lower my gaze, hoping that if he doesn’t have to feel my eyes burning into him, it might make it easier for him to talk.</p><p>“Yes, they all laughed. Usually they’d at least have the decency to wait until they got back into their rooms and were alone, but yes. Then they’d call their friends and laugh some more, make fun of the crazy old couple who were ‘daft enough to pay them for nothing.’ And they would do nothing, as long as they weren’t being monitored they basically just sat around and did nothing all day.”</p><p>“But, how’d you eat?” I ask.</p><p>“I usually waited til night time, then snuck down to the kitchen.” He sighs, lamenting the bad memories. It makes me sick, to even think of. I think I’ll cook an extra big meal for dinner tomorrow to combat this overprotective urge that’s come over me, thinking of him starving. I’m glad that even though I found the whole thing needless, I’d at least been paranoid enough to follow the rules since the beginning, in those early days.</p><p>“Is that why you made them all think the house was haunted, then?” He looks down at me, confused.</p><p>“You know about that too?” He asks me.</p><p>“Yes.” I clarify, and he sighs again, already assuming who must have told me. “She didn’t mean any harm by it, everyone in town thinks it’s just a silly ghost story, not real.”</p><p>He exhales and sits up next to me. “A ghost, huh.” Is all he says for a while. I lean in a little closer to him and nudge him.</p><p>“I wouldn’t leave Brahms, no matter what you tell me you did.” His brow furrows in confusion at my words, as if they couldn’t possibly be true and I’m just trying to trick him. I inch my hand over the comforter until my pinky brushes against his and his eyes shoot to mine. He looks so... afraid. Of what, me?</p><p>“Maybe another time,” I tell him. “When you want to talk about it. Let’s just sleep.” He nods at me, grateful I’m letting him off the hook. He takes the blanket and tucks it under me with great attention to detail, I almost laugh at the sight. It’s hard to reconcile the image of him doing all the horrible things he’s done with the man in front of me now, who seems so... sweet.</p><p>“You really are cute.” I sigh, the sudden realization feeling like something I probably shouldn’t have just said out loud, but oh well.</p><p>“What do you mean? Are you trying to be ironic” he asks me.</p><p>“No, not in the slightest.” I shake my head then trail my finger across his features, as if to prove my point. “You’re not very self aware, you know.” I tell him, while dragging my sensitive finger tip lightly over his eyelids, down the straight line of his nose, all the way to his soft lips. I freeze, once I feel the hot exhale of his breath and I realize what it is I’m doing. He grips my hand before I can pull it away from his mouth and kisses my finger, so quick I almost don’t realize it’s happened, before flipping around to turn off the light.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>I wake up early the next morning to Anna’s voice. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed and whispering on the phone with someone, trying not to wake me. I can’t hear both sides of the conversation, but I quickly realize who she must be talking to.</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re talking about, and I would never put your sister in danger. She’s my friend! Don’t you at least know me better than tha-”</p><p>She’s cut off mid sentence and Malcolm must be screaming into the receiver because I can suddenly make out some of what he says. Something along the lines of “never let Madi into that house ever again or I’ll-” and then whatever words were coming next, go silent as she clicks off the call and sets the phone back down on the dresser with slightly shaking hands.</p><p>I slowly reach across and put my hand on her back. She doesn’t jump at the unexpected contact, in fact she doesn’t react at all. I finally can’t take the tension anymore and I say something. “He won’t ever understand, he’s never liked me before and nothing will change his mind about that. I am sorry about your new friend though.”</p><p>I don’t say anymore about it than that though, I don’t want to lie to her. I actually feel a little relieved that she won’t be coming back here. I try to quell that selfish, possessive thought though. That maybe, Anna’s time will be all mine, and only mine from now on. ‘I’ll have her interrupted attention all to myself’ I think, with pleasure. But I shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that anymore, I need to try to be better. The truth is though, I really don’t want Malcolm or his sister anywhere near her, even if I am upset that she’s upset.</p><p>She finally turns her body in my direction. “It just doesn’t feel right, that he would think that little of you that he wouldn’t even trust letting his sister in the house? It’s not fair, I don’t want you to be thought of like that.” Her pouting face hits me and guilt washes over me. She was more upset at his sharp words for my sake, than that of her’s or her new friendship.</p><p>I look away from her, feeling like my face might show what I’m thinking. “You don’t have to stick up for me. I’ve done too many terrible things, I don’t deserve it.”</p><p>She sighs and places her warm hand on the scarred half of my face. “Deserve it or not, you have it.” And then she kisses my cheek and I let my eyes flutter closed, and try not to let my body betray me by reacting to such a simple touch. ‘I love you’ I think, ‘I want to protect you and keep you safe.’ The feelings are so deep and primal, that I almost groan, leaning into her palm. I have to be careful, I can’t be selfish with her or I really will lose her. ‘Be good’ I mentally warn myself. ‘Or at the very least, be a little better.’</p><p>Later that day, I see Anna’s phone in her hands and I lean over on the couch to see what she’s doing. She notices right away and snorts in laughter. “Do you want to know what I’m doing that badly, you snoop?” She asks me and I nod, unashamed. “I’m just talking to Madi, she apologized for what her brother said. She didn’t know he would react so badly, but she still wants to be friends. So that’s good at least. She just doesn’t want her brother finding out. Hopefully he won’t, he was a huge fucking ass earlier.” She huffs and then her annoyance with him is gone in an instant, replaced with a smile when Madi sends her a message asking if she still wants to go shopping with her this weekend. Anna looks back at me and grins before typing back.</p><p>“Have fun” I say pitifully. She only smiles bigger and nods at me before turning back to her phone. I spend the rest of the day in a barely-concealed state of dejection. That girl and her dolt of a brother are like mosquitoes at this point. I just know this is the universe punishing me for being happy earlier. Anna is happy again though, and if I pretend to be happy for her then she won’t know just how selfish my thoughts really are.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’ll be okay going alone today, Brahms? If I had known it was today when I made the plans with Madi, I wouldn’t have said yes.” She’s scribbling on a piece of paper while she talks to me. When I try to lean over her shoulder to read what she’s writing, she elbows me in the stomach. “Don’t you dare,” she says and I back away.</p><p>“I won’t be alone, I’ll be stuck with Charlie. You can go with your friend. Um, what time do you think you might be back?” I try to sound nonchalant, but I can tell by her knowing smirk that she can see I’m not as laissez-faire as I’m trying to appear.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I should be back home before you are. You’re a little co-dependent, have I ever told you that?” She raises her eyebrow at me before shaking her head light heartedly. My heart just dropped in my chest at her calling the house we’re in her ‘home’ though, and I try to regain my composure.</p><p>“I hope everything goes well today, can I... can I hug you before you leave?” She asks me.</p><p>I blink at her strange question. “Of course. Did you think I’d say no?”</p><p>“No, but I want to do it now, before Charlie gets here. So he doesn’t make fun of us.” I laugh quietly at that and she stands up and walks over to where I’m sitting. She slowly spreads her arms around my back and leans her cheek against the top of my head, I close my eyes and breathe in. When I feel her hands sliding away, I grip her “just a little longer.” She doesn’t say anything, just stays where she is. I really don’t want her to go today, but I can tell she’s excited to spend the day with her friend, so.</p><p>After a while, we both hear Charlie opening the front door and stepping inside, Anna takes a few steps back and looks at me. “Everything will be alright today, I’m sure” she says before Charlie walks into the kitchen.</p><p>“Alright, you ready?” He asks me. I nod and tell Anna to “have fun today” she grimaces and tries to nod back, but ends up looking a little guilty as she sees us walk out the front door. Once we get in the car, I can finally see just what kind of mood Charlie is in, he’s too nervous for any small talk. I watch the trees blur together as we pass them on the car ride and my mind wanders.</p><p>I already feel my nerves working throughout my whole body as well, but for more self-centered reasons. ‘It’s just people, they’re nothing to be afraid of. None of them.’ I try to calm myself, worried the same thing that happened to me last time will happen again. ‘I wish Anna were here,’ I frown, admitting to myself. I hate every single McGreene in this whole damn town, every single one of them has managed to annoy me, in one way or another. If it weren’t for Madi, then Anna would be here with me, right this second.</p><p>I look to my side and see Charlie pouring a little clear bottle of something into his drink and roll my eyes. He’s going to be no help at all, if I need him. Maybe he’ll be so inebriated though that I’ll be forced to step up and take care of him the whole day, that will surely keep my over-working mind off of things.</p><p>Why can’t I just be in control of my own mind? It seems so simple. I look out the window at the gray sky and let out a puff of breath into the cold air of the car. ‘Today is going to be terrible’ I decide. No way of getting out of it.</p><p>Once we get inside and to the waiting room I see Charlie walk up to Aunt Helen and just lean his head down on her shoulder. She rubs his back, without saying a word. ‘Ugh,’ I quickly look away. Seeing motherly affection like that makes my stomach clench in jealousy, I can’t help it. She must see my face and be able to tell, because she reaches her free arm out towards me and I walk over to her. She places her hand on my cheek and smiles meekly. She looks so exhausted.</p><p>“Did your cousin remember to extend our invitation to you for dinner, the day after Christmas?”</p><p>Charlie looks over at me, ‘oops’ he mouths. She grimaces, “well, I hope you do come. You probably aren’t used to being out much yet, but I promise it will be more private than a hospital.”</p><p>I smile at her, “I’ll come.”</p><p>We all sit down, settling in to wait for a while. Charlie groans after only a few minutes and says “Mum, will you go home and bring us back some food please?” I practically snap my own neck to turn and look at him. Before I can say anything she nods indulgently, agreeing, and gets up to leave.</p><p>“I suppose we’ll all be waiting here for hours as it is, I’ll go and be back in a little while then” she says, before walking out of the sliding doors to the parking lot.</p><p>Once she’s gone, I turn to him accusingly. “You ass, now why would you do that? Your poor mother.” And to involve me in his scheming? I’m not even that hungry.</p><p>He laughs at me. “She hasn’t gone home or slept in days, Brahms. As soon as she gets there, she’ll fall asleep. I know her. I just want her to not have to wait with us.”</p><p>Oh. “Well, if she comes back in an hour with a bunch of food for us both, then I’m going to hit you.”</p><p>He shrugs me off, and pulls his hat down over his face and mumbles something about getting a few minutes of sleep himself. I look around the waiting room, luckily not a lot of people here today at all.</p><p>I can’t keep sitting down, I get up just to pace around a little. As I step too far in one corridor’s direction though, someone from the end of the hall must see me because I hear a gasp. Before I can even look back at them though, they’ve already turned the other direction and disappeared. I look behind me, no one else is here. I let out a shaky breath and raise my hand to cover the ruined right side of my face. I’d almost forgotten for a few hours, before being reminded again.</p><p>Just because Anna treats me normally, doesn’t mean the rest of the world will. There’s nothing I can do about that, I shouldn’t let it bother me so much. I close my eyes and just focus on my breathing. I wish more than anything I was home right now, with the only set of eyes upon me hers. She doesn’t even act like the scars are there most of the time, it makes me forget too. ‘Just a few more hours here’ I think, sitting back down. I tuck Charlie’s jacket up around him, and sit and wait.</p><p>Finally, mercifully, the doctor walks out. I kick Charlie’s boot to wake him and he jolts up. After speaking with him, he walks back over to me and says “everything went well, but he still won’t be up for a while. I better go pick up mum. Do you want me to drop you back off?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I say, feeling relieved for more than one reason.</p><p>“Missing the object of your obsession?” He tries to tease me, but I’m in no mood. I really just want to go home.</p><p>It’s almost dark by the time we arrive back at the house. I walk back in excited to ask Anna how her day was, but she’s not back yet. I groan at the empty house and go to sit down on the couch. I start to stare at the clock. ‘She said she’d be back by now...’ I get up and quickly walk up the stairs to her bedroom, and sigh in relief when I see her stuff is all still here. What’s wrong with me? I’m being ridiculous, she wouldn’t just leave like that. I shake my head and walk back downstairs.</p><p>About half an hour later, I hear the door knob jostling. She walks in with a bunch of bags in her hands, I try to take them to help her but she doesn’t let me.</p><p>“Paws off, you beast. These are top secret, I don’t want you snooping around in any of them, like you like to do.” I laugh good-humoredly.</p><p>“I won’t, I promise.” She hugs me once all the bags are set down and says “sorry you got back before me.”</p><p>I brush the snow off her and sigh into her hair. “Mm, you smell like outside.”</p><p>She laughs. “What does outside smell like?”</p><p>“Like... fresh cold. Don’t know how else to explain it.” She hums into my chest and after another moment, I release her. “What’s all this for though?” I ask, looking down at the array of bags she’s brought in with her.</p><p>“What do you mean? Christmas is in a few days.” One of her eyebrows quirks up in disbelief that I’d even have to ask. She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.</p><p>“Oh, right. Christmas” I repeat. Christmas hasn’t really meant anything to me in years. But, I suppose if she wants to celebrate together, then we can.</p><p>“Now, in the morning I’m gonna go try and chop down a tree from outside and if you don’t come help me, then I’ll probably hurt myself.” She says with a smirk while kicking off her boots and running up the stairs.</p><p>“Anna, you can’t!” Damn it. I follow her upstairs and into the room. “Let me do it, please.” I say, ‘as if she could even lift an axe’ I think to myself.</p><p>She pretends to think it over, then nods and pats the space next to her on the bed. I’m exhausted, I crawl right in beside her, too tired to do much else.</p><p>“Tell me, please. How it went.” She says, turning towards me in the dark. I face her and pull the covers over her now bare shoulder. “Fine. Everything went fine, just like I assumed. I was mostly there for Charlie, as moral support.” Even though he’d never outright ask for help, I could just tell he didn’t want to go alone.</p><p>“You’re a good cousin.” She tells me, and it makes me feel weird. Especially after I spent the whole day caring mostly just about myself.</p><p>“You really want to put up a Christmas tree that bad?” I ask, to change the subject.</p><p>Her voice already sounds so sleepy, I know there’s no point in speaking after what she says next, she’ll be out in less than a minute. “It’s our first Christmas together.” She says, then her breathing slows and the hand that she had tucked up under her neck slides out and grips my shirt lightly.</p><p>‘Hm. Maybe putting up a tree wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world’ I think then, before running my warm hands over every inch of her still-freezing skin to lull her into a deeper, soundless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Which one looks the best?” She scans the forest line, looking at all the pine trees.</p><p>“Don’t pick one that’s too big, there’s only so much I can do. I’m not a forklift, after all.” Plus I have a sneaking feeling I’ll be the one carrying this in, myself.</p><p>She snickers, then walks up to one of the smaller ones and touches the fur. “This one will do. I’ll just have to find a way to dress it up, it will look grandiose by the time I’m through with it” she says, determined.</p><p>I have her stand back while I chop it. “Wait,” I say, realizing just how much snow is still left on the small tree. I think for a moment, then kick the base of the tree once and all the snow shakes loose and falls to the ground.</p><p>“There.” I say, “now at least it won’t be dripping wet in a few hours.” Her cheeks look flushed suddenly. “Are you feeling okay?” I ask, hoping she isn’t getting sick again. She doesn’t say anything. I better send her back inside, just in case. “Will you go back inside and make hot cocoa? I can cut this down by myself.”</p><p>“But I want to help!” She says, and now that I look back at her, her face is back to normal so I concede.</p><p>“Then go and check the shed for some old Christmas decorations. But after that, go back inside please.” She walks off and I start to hack away at the base of the spruce, then lug the thing into the house. I wait for her to come back, but I don’t hear her return. I finally walk back out to the shed and don’t see her there either. I grab the few boxes I see that have decorations in them and go back into the house.</p><p>“Anna?” I yell from downstairs. I walk up to her room and open the door, the bathroom door is shut and I hear the tub’s faucet running. Is she taking a bath? Maybe she really wasn’t feeling well...</p><p>I knock on the door and tell her I got everything. “I got dusty from the shed so I’m gonna take a bath” she squeaks out.</p><p>“Okay...” Just as I turn to leave I hear a little noise from behind the door. A small meow. I turn on my heal and she must hear me coming back because she yells “don’t come in, perv!” just as I’m twisting the door handle.</p><p>I see her sitting down besides the tub, and she has a tiny little blob squirming around underneath her sweater. It finally pops it’s head out of one of the sleeves and she grimaces, caught.</p><p>“What is that thing?” I ask her, groaning.</p><p>“It was in the shed, all alone. I tried looking around for the mother or any siblings, but it was just this little one. It’s tiny, barely weened and was crying out, it must have been left behind!” She scoops the little thing up off the floor and holds it close to her. I glower at them both.</p><p>“Please Brahms! It’s been abandoned, we have to help.” She begs, she holds it up by the scruff and it hisses when it sees me. She whispers in its ears that it should be trying to be cute right now, if it wants to stay.</p><p>“Didn’t you have a cat before?” I blink a few times and ask how she knew that. “A photo I found in your attic. I didn’t know it was you at the time, but.”</p><p>I sigh. “Yes, I did.” It was one of the only nice things my mother ever did for me, after... “But my cat was different.” And after it died, I vowed to never get attached to another animal again because it hurts too much when they die.</p><p>She huffs in frustration and says “look at it Brahms, it’s just a baby. It won’t survive if we don’t keep it.”</p><p>“It’s a stray, if we took in every stray that would die without help then there wouldn’t be enough room for us in this house.” I huff in anger.</p><p>She looks at me, shocked I would even say such a thing. “You know Brahms, you should be lucky I have such a keen liking of taking on strays,” she looks at me pointedly.</p><p>“What are you implying?” I grit my teeth.</p><p>“I think you know,” she says with emphasis. “Good for your sake, that I’m so nurturing and loving. You shouldn’t try and quash that quality of mine, you know.”</p><p>I scoff. “I’m the opposite of a stray, if that’s what you mean. If anything, I’d be a house-pet. So I don’t really see the stupid analogy.”</p><p>“You said it, not me” she replies, grinning smugly.</p><p>I roll my eyes. Unbelievable, there’s almost no point in ever arguing with her. I know I’ll eventually lose.</p><p>I take a long look at the thing and finally say “it kind of looks like you,” before laughing. She looks down at the orange tabby with it’s big blue eyes and grins widely. “See? He’s my son.” She chuckles and kisses it’s head and the thing crawls under her neck and starts to purr. Well, it certainly likes her.</p><p>“Let me... hold it,” I sigh. She hands it over and I hold it in my hands for a moment and just stare at it, concentrating.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing?” She asks, amused.</p><p>“I’m trying to bond with it!” I shout.</p><p>She snatches it back from me, “you’re scaring him!”</p><p>She quickly sets it down to roam around in the tub again and I purse my lips. It looks goofy, it’s fur is all puffed up and it’s chasing her hand, running in circles. I look again, seeing if the bond I immediately had with my first cat comes, but I don’t feel anything. Instead, I see Anna snatch the cat up and snuggle it to her face. It kisses her nose and she coos at it.</p><p>“Did you never have a pet growing up?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. “No, my mom hated animals. We weren’t ever allowed.”</p><p>“I guess it can stay.”</p><p>“Wait, really?!” She asks me.</p><p>“Yeah” I sigh. “But only if it promises right here and now to grow up big and strong and destroy any rats that get in it’s path.”</p><p>“He promises,” she says, barely paying attention now that I’ve agreed. “Don’t you, little guy?” She lifts him up and offers to let me hold him again. I politely decline, until it’s at least had a bath. But I do pat the cat’s little head, and it actually lets me.</p><p>Once he starts purring, she leans in and says “see, he does like you. Will you name him?”</p><p>“Me?” She nods. I think for a moment and then say “since it was in the shed ruining the Christmas decorations <em>and</em> has completely taken away my holiday spirit, I’ll call him the grinch.”</p><p>She laughs and agrees. “Okay, grinch” before bringing him back to the bath.</p><p>I lean on the doorway of the bathroom with my arms crossed and just laugh as I watch her try to get the little creature to sit still long enough to let her bathe it. “You could help, you know.” She says, annoyed.</p><p>“No way,” I chuckle “it’s all you. He’s yours, remember?” She curls her lip up at me before the kitten tries to escape the edge of the tub again and pulls her attention back to her task.</p><p>The rest of the day we decorate the tree together, then Anna tries to teach me how to cook and I end up failing miserably. She takes the first bite, and doesn’t let on at all the disaster I’ve managed to create. She chews and swallows before giving me a small smile, I grin back and take a bite myself and freeze instantly. I get up off the chair I’m in and walk right over to her seat before grabbing the plate in front of her and tossing it into the sink.</p><p>“No Brahms, I liked it! You don’t have to-”</p><p>“Shh, don’t lie” I tell her. “I’m not gonna let you eat that.” I don’t know what I did wrong, but clearly something went array in the process. Apparently if the recipe’s not something simple, like pancakes, then I just can’t do it.</p><p>She frowns at me and says “everyone messes up on their first tries, it’s not a big deal.”</p><p>After we finish eating the second dinner we’ve cooked that night, where I was instructed to just ‘watch and learn’ instead of doing any actual helping, it’s already plenty late.</p><p>“Come on Brahms, it’s a Christmas time staple. We have to watch! If you get too tired, then just fall asleep on the couch.” She says, teasingly.</p><p>“Well, I’ve never heard of it, must be an ‘American’ classic. But if you want us to watch, then we can.”</p><p>“Home Alone is not just for Americans, it’s universally recognized. You’ll love it, come on. Al though... it might give you some bad ideas about rigging up the house so that no one can come over anymore. But, that’s a risk I’ll have to take.”</p><p>We sit closely on the couch together and I try my best to pay attention to the screen. “I don’t get it, why is this kid so afraid of the washing machine. Anna?” I turn to my side and shake my head. After all that big talk, she’s out only a couple minutes into the movie. I pull down the blanket to cover the rest of her body, and stretch out her legs so they’re resting in my lap.</p><p>I used to think I was so happy, just watching from afar. That I could make it be enough, just be satisfied with how things were. But now that I get to be out on the other side and with her everyday, I can’t think of anything worse than being back in those walls.</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>Delivery day finally arrives, and I wait impatiently outside on the front steps even though it’s freezing. I look at my phone for the time, then rub my hands together for warmth. ‘He’s late’ I think, wondering if he’ll come at all. Our last conversation didn’t end well, to say the least. He was furious with me. I just hope the time in between then and now might have put some sense into his head, because he was way overreacting. I’d never let anything bad happen to Madi. What kind of person does he think I am?</p><p>A car finally pulls up, the delivery truck. I walk down the steps waving at the driver... ‘Madi’ I think, perplexed. She gets out of the car and walks up to me. “Hey Anna, sorry about my brother. He told me to lie and say he was sick and couldn’t come, but I’m pretty sure he just didn’t want to.” She grimaces at me.</p><p>I let my hands hang loosely at my sides and say, rather dissatisfied, “it’s fine, I get it.” I help her load all the groceries to the door and she looks at the threshold before walking through. I narrow my eyes at her, but try not to overthink it. “So,” I start to say once all the groceries are out of the truck “do you wanna come inside for a sec and see my new kitten?” I ask. She looks at the door again, then after a little too long of not replying, finally says “sure.”</p><p>I look at her again. “Madi, did he tell you not to come inside the house?” I guess. And I guess right, apparently because she sighs and says “how’d you know?” I bite my lip to not scream out in frustration. What, did he think Brahms was some wild animal?!</p><p>“Sorry, Anna. I swear, I never in a million years would’ve thought of my brother as being superstitious! But apparently, all the old ‘ghost stories’ of this house that we used to just laugh at together, he must’ve taken more seriously than I thought. I can’t think of any other reason, try not to take it personally.” She says to me, chagrined. I mumble a quick “‘s fine,” before saying goodbye to her.</p><p>I walk back into the house, feeling more and more angry as the seconds pass. I <em>do</em> take it personally, actually. After spending so much time with Brahms the last few weeks and seeing what he’s really like, I can’t help but feel offended on his behalf. Malcolm’s no better than anyone else in this town, after all, with the way he demonizes him. That’s it! This misunderstanding has gone on for too long. ‘Well, it ends tonight’ I think to myself.</p><p>It’s almost nighttime now, the store closed a few minutes ago so he can’t use the excuse of being busy ‘working’ to get out of talking to me. I’m currently rifling through my room before I go. “God, where the hell is it” I mutter to myself, getting frustrated.</p><p>“What?” I look up and see Brahms standing in the doorway.</p><p>“Um, just my wallet. I can’t find it.” How could I have possibly lost it within just the last week? “Ugh!” I yell out.</p><p>“It’s in the top right drawer,” he says. I check and am annoyed to find that he’s right.</p><p>“Um, by the way- I’m going to go out for a few hours” I tell him, hesitantly.</p><p>“You don’t need to ask my permission.”</p><p>I raise an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t, trust me.” He nods in agreement “I just wanted to let you know though,” he waits for me to explain. “Last time I checked, you weren’t so good at handling me leaving you alone here.” He bites his lip, understanding lights his face.</p><p>“Well, that was different. You weren’t going to come back last time” he tries to clarify. “You will come back, won’t you?” He asks me then.</p><p>I walk over to him. “Yes, I won’t be gone long.” He just nods back at me with a pained look on his face. I get ready to walk down the stairs, before quickly thinking of something. “Here, Brahms. Keep this for me while I’m gone, won’t you?” I take the bracelet from my wrist and carefully switch it to his.</p><p>“You always wear this. What is it?” He asks me, running his fingers along it delicately.</p><p>“It’s the only thing I have left from my dad” I tell him. It was actually his mother’s, my grandmother’s. A small, simple gold chain. Not at all expensive, but very sentimental to me. “And something that I would never just leave without, so you keep it. For now.” At least until he starts to feel a little better when I leave him at the house alone. Hopefully this will help ease his mind some.</p><p>He smiles. “Thank you” he tells me breathily. I can tell that he really is grateful for what it signifies. Does he still not know yet that I wouldn’t just abandon him on a whim? I guess, it does sort of make sense. I mean, his parents really did just lie one day and tell him they were going on vacation, and then just offed themselves. Abandonment issues like that don’t just go away overnight. I look up at him, smiling to himself and playing with the bracelet’s chain, and I smooth one of his stray curls back down onto his head. “You’re welcome. Now come on, walk me out.” We head down the steps and he opens the front door for me.</p><p>The reality of the conversation I’m about to have starts to weigh on me as I’m taking the taxi to town. ‘Please Malcolm, just look in my eyes and know I’m telling the truth. Please.’ I silently plead on the ride up. Even if it doesn’t go well, I still have to try. I just can’t take it, that he’s <em>so</em> convinced that Brahms is dangerous just because of one misunderstanding. He helped me that night, he didn’t hurt me. I guess that must be a taste of what his whole life has been like, though. I look out the car window in contempt at the people shoveling snow off their driveway, or walking together holding hands. Almost every single person in this town thinks of Brahms as a monster who killed his best friend, I don’t know how he stands it. I barely can, even now I look at them all and hate them for it.</p><p>I finally step out into the cold night and see the building that has the grocery shop on the first floor, and the apartment where Malcolm lives above it. I enter the building and walk up the creaky old steps before knocking on the door. Malcolm answers after a few seconds, and when he sees it’s me his face goes slack.</p><p>“You look better.” I remark on his black eye, not as bad as when I last saw him, almost entirely healed now. He just looks at me, unmoved. We stand in silence for a few more seconds, I finally just ask him “um, can I come in?” His face grows more and more stern. I peak into the small apartment and see prescription pill bottles lying all along the tabletops. And I see one of the bedroom doors slightly ajar, with all sort of machines beeping. ‘That must be his mother,’ I think to myself. Madi mentioned she was sick, but I didn’t imagine she was this sick.</p><p>He blocks my view and says “in the hall, or Madi will hear” before walking us both down to the middle of the hallway. I didn’t realize they lived together, maybe both of them need to be around to take round the clock care of their mother. Once we’re both out of earshot, he turns on his heal to face me.</p><p>“To be honest, I’m a little surprised you’re allowed out of the house.” His voice is not the person who sat at the kitchen table with me for hours on end, making small talk and laughing together to pass the time.</p><p>“I can do whatever I want, you really think I’m some prisoner or something? Why?” He doesn’t answer, just stares down at me dissatisfied.</p><p>“I don’t want to fight about this anymore, Malcolm. There’s nothing I can really say to get you to understand. I just wanted you to know that he’s never ever hurt me. I’m not afraid of him.” I specify, trying so hard to find the right words. To soften him before I ask him what I’m about to.</p><p>His eyes light up in flames at what I’ve just said. “Is that so? Then why-” he cuts himself off with a displeased groan and looks away.</p><p>“Why what?” I ask, sounding way more angry than I intended to.</p><p>He just sighs loudly. “Never mind. Why did you come here tonight Anna? You came to see me for something, obviously. Just ask it, I know what you’re really here to say. You want me to promise I’m not going to tell anyone that he’s there, right?”</p><p>My lip twitches, upset at the turn the conversation’s taken. A small part of me was hoping we’d find a way to make up tonight. He doesn’t seem to want to, he almost seems more mad at me now than before on the phone.</p><p>“Malcolm, you’re my friend...” I start, not even sure why I said the words or where I was going. I just wanted to remind him, I guess. The stern facade drops for a moment. He unfolds his arms and takes in a slow breath.</p><p>“Yes, I am.” He says, waiting for me to go on.</p><p>“Can’t you just accept it that there are some things I can’t explain right now, but believe me at my word that he isn’t bad. He’s not some kind of evil mastermind. He’s barely had any human interaction for decades, how do you imagine he’s managed to somehow get me under his thumb and manipulate me?”</p><p>He grits his teeth, clearly wanting to say something but not just coming out with it. “Look at it from my perspective for a moment, will you? It doesn’t make any sense at all. Why are you still staying there then, Anna? If he’s really not making you stay, then why. It can’t be what you said before, about feeling like you had to stay on out of gratitude for the Heelshire’s giving you this job. They basically set you up! They <em>knew</em> their grown son was there the whole time so you have no reason to be grateful to them. So tell me why?” He begs me, desperate for any answer.</p><p>I stand there for a moment looking up at him, before I decide to just tell him the truth. “I’m staying... because I want to. I like being around him, okay?” I say, defensively. His eyes flash and his face falls back into that same impassive, unfeeling look.</p><p>“So, that’s why. I get it now. They weren’t paying you all that money for nothing, I suppose. There’s a word for that you know” he says, sounding uncharacteristically cruel.</p><p>“For what?” I ask, not understanding.</p><p>“For someone who’s payed for their <em>company</em>” he spits.</p><p>As the words sink in, the look on my face must make him want to backtrack. “Anna, I-” but I put my hand up, he’s already told me exactly how he really feels. When someone is angry, that’s when the words they say are most telling. It’s what they’re really thinking, but normally wouldn’t have the guts to say.</p><p>My lip curls up in utter disgust at him. “Don’t consider us friends from now on, Malcolm.”</p><p>I turn to walk down the stairs that lead back out to the street. He tries to follow me down but his mother coughs from her room and calls his name. I swiftly exit, following out to wait for my cab across the street, where he won’t be able to see me.</p><p>Before I can call for one though, I see someone come out of their building door with a heavy coat on. I almost audibly groan, thinking it must be him again. Then, the person lifts their hood.</p><p>“Madi,” I sigh.</p><p>“Um, my brother wants me to give you a ride back. You okay?” She lifts her hand to pat my shoulder awkwardly.</p><p>“I’m surprised he’s even letting you drive me to the property line,” I snap.</p><p>She just frowns at me and says “come on” before ushering us both into the car and out of the cold.</p><p>On the drive back, she starts to talk. “Um, look- I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but my brother isn’t a bad guy.” I roll my eyes and look out the window, determined to ignore her.</p><p>“I know, I know. It’s hard to hear that about someone you just had a fight with. But the thing about Malcolm is, he feels... responsible. For the people he loves I mean, he always has. It’s not like our dad was around to take any care of us. And when he was around it was always much worse, trust me. He always protected us from him though, mum and me. So don’t be too hard on him. I know you must think it’s silly, him not letting me come over. And so do I, but-”</p><p>“I’m sorry Madi, I just really don’t feel like talking.” I try to end the conversation there, I don’t want to be hearing this. Not right now.</p><p>“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, I just wanted you to understand why he’s so protective. He’s just always felt like it’s his job, to protect all the women around him. Or else no one else will.” She looks over at me. I don’t say anything, just hold my hands out in front of the heater and ignore her.</p><p>I try to remain as angry as I was before, but unfortunately what she’s said does soften me just the slightest bit. Does he think he needs to try to protect me as well? Is that why he’s going so far with this, why he won’t just drop it? Well, even if that’s true, I didn’t ask for his ‘concern.’ And I don’t need it, anyways.</p><p>I hold in my feelings the whole ride home, gripping the car’s seat so tight my nails hurt. Once I see the house, I mumble a quick thanks before I get out, walking numbly up the steps to the front door while I hear her pull away. But before I can open it myself, it opens for me.</p><p>“Why are you just standing out here? It’s cold. Come in please,” he says, pulling me by my jacket forward into the house. I walk to the couch and sit down in a haze. Brahms walks closely behind and sits next to me, staring, always staring.</p><p>“Something’s wrong. What happened?” He nudges me gently. I look over at him and my lip starts to wobble involuntarily.</p><p>“He said...” I can’t even recall the precise words. But I know exactly what he meant, and why it’s affecting me the way it is.</p><p>I still remember the one and only time I tried to tell my mom about a fight James and I had, a really bad one. I was trying so hard to just work up the strength over the phone to say the words ‘he hit me,’ but I ended up not being able to fully tell her. I just couldn’t force the words out for some reason. It was too hard to admit what had happened, telling somebody would have meant that it really <em>was </em>happening. But I knew, I knew she could tell what I was trying to say.</p><p>She ended the conversation reminding me that a lot of women in the world put up with a lot more for ‘a lot less.’ I asked her what that meant, and she told me that ‘James had money, and maybe I should take that into consideration before I decide anything drastic.’</p><p>After that day, I never called her for help again. I try not to blame her for what she said to me, she was always going on about how she married for love, and look at how it turned out for her. All she had to show for it now was unpaid bills, and a broken heart. That maybe if she just married for money or security, that even if it hadn’t worked out she at least wouldn’t have to be in such pain. I guess I get it, her and my father were so in love. Maybe it’s better to have never met your soulmate, if you’re only going to have to live without them.</p><p>But those words she said, I took to heart without meaning to. And because of it, the next few years of my life were pure misery. But I didn’t worry about paying bills or rent, right? That was the cost. If James had been poor, would I have left him sooner? I’d even wondered that to myself, before. The words Malcolm said tonight stung me for a reason.</p><p>“Anna,” Brahms brought me back to the present by waving his hand in front of my face. I just lean my head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.</p><p>He sounds nervous when he asks “please tell me what he said.” But I don’t. I’m too afraid he’ll think it’s true.</p><p>I lean back and look at him. “I would still stay here with you even without being paid to. You do know that, right?” I ask him softly. ‘You do know I really care about you,’ are the words I want to say. He just looks perplexed and puts his arms around me. Neither of us speaks again for the rest of the night, he just rubs my back soothingly. Eventually I must fall asleep, when I wake in the morning I look down and see my bracelet is back on my wrist.</p><p> </p><p>The next few days pass by in a blur. Brahms doesn’t question me again about why I was so upset that night, or exactly what Malcolm said to me, and I’m glad. I don’t need him having any more incentive to hate him, things are already contentious enough as is. </p><p>Malcolm tries texting me a couple of times after that night, but now it’s me who’s ignoring him. Maybe Brahms was right, and he’s never going to understand. If he ever actually admitted to himself that his hatred for Brahms is unfounded, then he’d have to deal with the fact that a white lie he told when he was a kid led to decades of suffering for someone who didn’t deserve it. And maybe that’s just too much for him to face.</p><p>Oh well, no reason to dwell on it any more. It’s Christmas Eve, and at this point I feel like I almost have a gun pointed to Brahms’ head forcing him to have ‘Holiday spirit’ like I do. He’s humored me so far, but I can tell he still isn’t as into it as I am. For me, Christmas was one of the best times in my life growing up. For him, it was just another day he spent alone. So I do understand, but I’m not giving up just yet.</p><p>We’re sitting on the couch together now, and he’s making me rank what I consider to be the ‘best holiday movies of all time’ while grinch is busy biting at our fingers. All he seems to want to contribute to the conversation is that “Black Christmas <em>is</em> technically a Christmas movie, and should at the very least be considered.” I don’t even dignify that with a response. He would like that one, I never should’ve showed it to him.</p><p>“I hear a car coming,” he says suddenly.</p><p>I perk up and try to listen. “Hm, must be Madi. Will you go hide for a few seconds? She’s probably not going to come in, but I don’t want to risk it.”</p><p>He gives an exaggerated sigh, then nods before heaving up off the couch and muttering something I can’t quite make out. Probably something disparaging about my friend.</p><p>I shake my head, laughing to myself a little before walking to the door and opening it. “Eva,” I freeze.</p><p>She’s really standing right in front of me, at the bottom of the porch with a suitcase in hand, smiling. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of you spending Christmas all alone.” Before I can say a thing, I run down the icy steps barefoot and throw my arms around her. She laughs and squeezes me back. And for just a second, I forget all about the fact that I in fact would not have been spending Christmas alone, and I now had a bit of a problem.</p><p>“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” I say into her hair.</p><p>“Just wanted it to be a surprise” she tells me, and I help her bring her bags in. Once I set them down and close the door to keep the cold air from coming in, I turn to face her. I am happy she’s here, I’ll deal with whatever consequences come from her showing up later. For now, I’m just relieved to see her.</p><p>“Don’t start crying, idiot.” She shakes her head at my watering eyes before laughing. She hugs me again and as I start to pull away she surprises me by giving me a quick peck on the lips. I normally wouldn’t think anything of it, we’ve kissed before. And we haven’t seen each other for months, but it seems to last just a second longer than it usually would. Before I can think too much on it though she’s pulled back and starts wiping at my eyes.</p><p>“Sorry,” I say. “I don’t mean to be a baby. I just missed you so much, you have no idea.”</p><p>“Me too. I’ve been really worried about you.” I give a guilty grin. I suppose looking at it from her perspective, I have been acting rather erratic these past few months.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to worry you, I just wasn’t getting a lot of sleep there for awhile, that’s all.” I laugh halfheartedly, trying to give a somewhat reasonable excuse. She looks me over, frowning a little once she starts to gather herself and really take in the house around us.</p><p>“Wow, you weren’t lying about this place. It’s huge. And you’re in it all by yourself, I can’t believe you haven’t called me more actually. I’d be a little paranoid too, out here in the middle of nowhere.” I shrug at her, trying to brush it off.</p><p>All the times I called her, an anxious mess and needing to be talked down, all because I <em>had</em> actually heard someone in the house with me. Wherever he is right now, I hope Brahms has the where with all to not make his presence known right this second. ‘Please, just go up to my room and wait for me there’ I try to communicate with him telepathically.</p><p>I don’t know how to deal with both of them at the same time, not yet. I want to be able to sit Eva down first and tell her everything before they meet. That way, she won’t have a bad first impression of him. I so badly want them to like each other, and for that to happen I have to make their first meeting perfect.</p><p>“How long can you stay for?” I ask, and she whirls back around to face me.</p><p>“Well, I’m off work for the next 10 days. So, as long as you’ll have me I guess.” She flops down onto the couch I was just laying on with Brahms and grinch starts to bat at her feet. “You didn’t tell me they had a cat!” She squeals. She scoops him up off the floor and places him in her lap, he immediately snuggles up to her.</p><p>“They didn’t, I found him out in the shed just a few days ago.” I sit on the couch next to them both. “Oh, of course he already likes you.” I sigh. “Animals always love you.” She scratches his little head and says “at least you haven’t been entirely alone here, then.” I just give an awkward laugh.</p><p>“Let me show you to the other guest room” I tell her, hoping that I sound inconspicuous. I don’t want to seem like I’m rushing her away, but I need to get to my room to talk to Brahms. She nods at me and I walk her to the room.</p><p>“I’ll give you a couple of minutes. I know the flight is long, I remember how tired I was. There’s a shower in the hall right across from here. I’ll just be upstairs.”</p><p>“Yep, sounds good.” I close the door for her and quickly run up the steps to my room. I close the door behind me and for the first time since I’ve gotten here, I lock the bedroom door.</p><p>I let out a long breath and turn back around. Brahms is sitting on the bed, his hands folded in his lap, looking at me. “Erm, surprise...” I give a weak smile and start to walk over to him once I see the blank, unamused look on his face.</p><p>“Don’t be upset, I didn’t know she’d be coming.” I try to comfort him but he only looks more and more displeased.</p><p>“You don’t want me to meet her, do you? You want me to hide again, otherwise you wouldn’t have just locked the door like that.” It’s not a question he’s asking me, he already seems to know what I’m thinking, an annoying habit of his.</p><p>“I do. I will, let you two meet I mean. Just not right this second. Please, Brahms. I want you both to get along, but there’s so much I’ve been lying to her about. Which is my fault, not yours, I know. But can’t you just... give me some time? To tell her about you, you know- before you meet face to face” I ramble on.</p><p>He just looks at me blankly. “You want me to go back to how it was before? Back in the walls,” his voice catches at the last word and I feel so guilty I can’t stand it. I know that even asking this of him is cruel.</p><p>“I-” I can’t speak suddenly. I know how wrong this is to ask, but the truth is I’m a coward. I don’t want to have to see the look on Eva’s face when she realizes all I’ve been keeping from her. I’m pathetic.</p><p>“No” he says. I snap up and look at him. “You asked me, and I’m allowed to say no. So, no.”</p><p>“Brahms, please! Just give me one day then, just... don’t let her find out about you before I get to explain everything. You don’t understand, it will be bad. Everything I went through with James, she had to go through watching it happen to me and now she’s understandably, very protective.” I try to explain to him why it’s so important that I do this right.</p><p>He looks like he understands, but something is still bothering him. “Will you really tell her in a day, or will you keep putting it off until she finally just leaves here, without ever knowing I exist?” He finally ask me.</p><p>“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows in confusion. Is that what he thinks?</p><p>“You want to just leave here one day and go on living your life without anyone you know ever knowing about me, so you can pretend I didn't exist. I know it! That’s why you won’t tell anyone about me.” He’s working himself up and talking too loudly, she’s going to hear us.</p><p>“No! No. That’s not true Brahms, I wouldn’t ever do that. I don’t want to keep you a secret, I just need one day, 24 hours.” I get down on my knees in front of him and start to beg, I freeze when I hear footsteps coming up from the hallway. My eyes shoot to the door the second I hear knocking.</p><p>“Anna, are you on the phone or something? Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to see if you want to drive to town to get something to eat together.” She says from behind the door. I look back up at Brahms and the second I see the look on his face, I realize what he’s about to do. He stands up off the bed and just as he opens his mouth, before any sound can even get out, I jump up and muffle his mouth with my hands.</p><p>“Um,” I say loudly, hoping to drown out any sound he’s trying to make to make his presence known. He looks at me, his gaze annoyed and now determined. “Actually, I’m on the phone with some of the family’s lawyers. Just some stuff about the will, I’ve got it on mute for a sec. I hate to ask, but do you think you could just go get food for us both and bring it back?”</p><p>Brahms is licking the palm of my hand like a fucking toddler would and I’m giving him a death stare, but I don’t move my hands from where they’re covering his mouth, and he’s probably too afraid of his own strength to try and pry my wrists off himself.</p><p>“Oh, yeah sure. What kind of food do you feel like?” She asks.</p><p>Damn, now he’s pulling us both towards the door, trying to get to it to unlock it. I try to jump on his back to pull him down, and start to yank his hair, but I don’t think he even feels it. My eyes plead with him to just stop, but he doesn’t care. If he doesn’t stop soon, I might do something rather underhanded, in a moment of desperation.</p><p>“Actually, anything sounds good. Just pick whatever, you know what I like.” I say, hoping that will be enough to get her to leave right this instant.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound a little weird.” Brahms has me dragging with him and we’re only a few inches from him being able to reach out and grab the doorknob, so I do what I have to and I muffle his mouth as much as I possibly can before I start tickling him. Before she can hear a thing though, I yell back out “yeah, just stressed talking about all this legal stuff. You know that kind of talk goes right over my head. Haha.”</p><p>Brahms drops to the ground in an effort to get me to stop, he hates being tickled more than anything and it’s the only thing I could think of that would actually work to incapacitate him for a moment. But now he’s taken us both down to the floor, I land on top of him with an effort to not make a loud banging noise. I look down at his flushed face, now more angry than before. When before it was more about the principal of the thing, now he might yell out just to spite me.</p><p>I straddle him with my hips and scramble to re-cover his mouth before I finally yell out “Don’t worry E, I should be done with them soon. I’ll be down for dinner by the time you’re back.”</p><p>Brahms’ eyes are on fire with what I presume is anger. I look at him desperately and in a final ditch effort, whisper “I’ll do anything, please.” His gaze softens a little and he finally, gently, dislodges my hand from his mouth.</p><p>I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the disaster about to occur once Eva hears a man’s voice coming from my room. But all I hear is her saying “okay, be back soon” and then her footsteps leading down the stairs, until I finally hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.</p><p>My breath comes out in small, desperate huffs. I open my eyes and look down at Brahms beneath me, most of his anger seems to be gone. “Y-you’ll do it then? You’ll give me one day,” I ask.</p><p>He leans up a little onto his elbows, but doesn’t move to get me off him. “You said you’d do anything,” he tells me. Oh yeah. I guess in my desperation, I did say that...</p><p>“Um, so then what do you want?” I ask nervously. I wish my breathing wasn’t so embarrassingly affected by the few minutes of physical assertion, but he really was difficult to wrestle down.</p><p>I try to scramble back to get off of his lap, but he grabs me in place. “Wait. If you want me to spend the next 24 hours hiding again, like I used to, then I want to spend the next 24 hours being able to kiss you.”</p><p>“Kiss? That’s what you want?” I ask, perplexed. He nods his head slowly as I let the request sink in. He <em>must</em> have seen it then, Eva kissing me. I almost groan.</p><p>“This is because of before, isn’t it? You saw.” He doesn’t bother answering me, but I can tell it’s true because of his sudden change in demeanor. He looks off to the side and frowns, unable to meet my eyes.</p><p>“She’s my best friend, it’s different when we kiss each other” I try to rationalize. But it’s hard when I admit, even I was a tad caught off guard earlier by the whole thing. We usually kiss briefly on the cheek, I can’t even remember the last time we kissed like that. Still, it’s difficult to dignify giving Brahms any explanation about the whole thing when he really doesn’t deserve it.</p><p>“Aren’t we friends, then?” He asks me, eyes blazing. I try to get up again and I feel his hands tighten, just barely, on where they rest on either side of my thighs. He breathes heavily and waits for me to respond.</p><p>“Well, yes of course you’re my friend, it’s just that...” damn. He always manages to twist my words against me. I struggle to find something to tell him that would dispel the thought from his head. “Look, you don’t want to waste your first kiss, right? It should be special.” He doesn’t bother trying to lie and say it wouldn’t be his first kiss, instead he lets out a frustrated breath and finally releases my legs so I can get up. I sit down on the bed again and he sits next to me.</p><p>“Fine, not on the lips then” he amends. He closes the small distance between us, leaning in and demonstrating by kissing me chastely on the forehead. I blink a few times in quick succession, and he takes my confusion as his chance to go on. “For the next day, that’s all. Or until you tell your friend that I’m here, if you want it to go on for longer.” I let out a sputtering laugh at his boldness and then get serious for a moment.</p><p>‘What’s a kiss on the forehead or cheek a couple of times? No harm in that,’ I think. We’ve kissed like that before, and there’s nothing weird about it.</p><p>I look at him again, sitting next to me, just a few centimeters away. His face is a little red, and his hair is all tousled from when I wrestled him down to the ground. ‘He really tries his best to do everything that I want,’ now that I think about it. He always ends up giving in and accommodating me no matter what I ask. And I take advantage of that. I suddenly feel so bad, that I agree without thinking further.</p><p>“Okay Brahms, the next 24 hours it is.” His eyes light up in flames. I stand up suddenly, feeling nervous, and he mimics my actions. He looks down at me with a wolfish grin and holds out his hand for me to take.</p><p>“Shake my hand” he commands, “and it’ll be a deal.” So I do. His palm is warm and gentle. “Deal, then” he says, smiling a little too eagerly.</p><p>His grin fades away and he turns serious as he takes my hand and lifts it to his mouth before kissing the knuckles. I gulp and nod a little. “Yeah...”</p><p>Instead of releasing me, he continues kissing my hand. Then up along my arm, and all the way to my neck. He slides one hand around me to rest firmly on the small of my back and presses me closer to him, and the other hand clasps around my wrist. He’s so tall, he has to bend down just to get to where he wants on my body. He keeps kissing all along the nape of my neck, to the shell of my ear and my jawline. After about a minute, I feel my knees wobble and only then does he stop for a moment.</p><p>“I didn’t think this is what you meant... you tricked me” I accuse. He exhales against my skin in a soft sigh, leaving me to goosebump from the way the hot breath tickles me.</p><p>“We did say anywhere but the lips.” He reminds me, before leaning in to kiss my neck again.</p><p>“Don’t leave any marks!” I yell, and he hums and says “sorry, I’ll be gentler” and continues sucking lightly.</p><p>“H-how long are you gonna do this for?” I ask weakly.</p><p>“For the next 24 hours, probably.” I push him away.</p><p>“It’s dinner time, you creep. I’m hungry and Eva will be back any minute.”</p><p>I hear him laughing as I walk out of the room and he shouts “fine, we have all night!”</p><p>‘Unbelievable,’ I think, walking into the kitchen shaking my head. I am never making another deal with him ever again, he is definitely not as innocent as I thought him to be. I hear the door blow open and run over to help Eva inside.</p><p>After we’re done eating, we sit in the living room together for a few minutes just talking. “Oh!” She says to me before excitedly getting up off the couch. “I almost forgot, I brought a couple of your things that you left with me for safekeeping’s in New York. Here-”</p><p>She leads me into the room to her suitcase and unzips it. I honestly don’t remember what I left behind at this point, I lean over her shoulder to peak in. “Just some random stuff, but I also thought you’d want this too.” She hands me the ziplock bag with the all the tiny, broken pieces in it and I give her a small, grateful smile.</p><p>“Thanks E,” I say simply to her, feeling suddenly sad.</p><p>“No problem, I knew you’d want it. Okay, well I’m gonna take a shower then probably go to bed, I’m exhausted. See you in the morning.” I tell her good night, then head back into my room.</p><p>“What’s that?” Brahms asks from where he’s lounging on the bed, reading one of my books. “Oh uh, nothing. It’s something Eva brought for me that I left in New York.”</p><p>That perks him up. He walks over to get a better look. “It just looks like broken pieces of something to me. What was it?”</p><p>I place the bag into the top drawer of the dresser. “It’s just a mug that my brother made me. It got smashed to bits when James was mad one day, and I was too sentimental to just throw it away. So I swept up all the pieces and put them in a bag, even though I know I’ll never be able to fix it. It’s stupid.” I sigh, climbing into bed.</p><p>“No, it’s not.” He tells me, before getting in beside me.</p><p>“So, what have you been doing with yourself the last few hours?” I ask, curious and wanting to distract him.</p><p>“Just finishing up something, it doesn’t matter. I missed eating with you though,” I want to say so did I, but I just shake it off. It was only a few hours that we were apart, after all. It’s silly. “Do you think your friend will hate me?” He asks, surprising me.</p><p>“What? No, she’s not going to hate you. She may seem hard on the outside, but once you get to know her, she softens up and you’ll see how kind she is. She saved my life you know, just like you did. In a different way though. It can’t have been easy for her, to have me just suddenly stop talking to her for years. But when I called her for help she still dropped everything for me. That’s how I got out. And, got to meet you.” He smiles fondly at that.</p><p>I snuggle deeper into the soft pillow and he immediately drapes over me and pulls my loose cotton shirt up a few inches to start kissing my stomach.</p><p>“That tickles,” I interrupt.</p><p>“You deserve it, for tickling me earlier.” He continues up my ribs, kissing every inch of me that he can get at. Sucking lightly, licking the most sensitive places, going on for what feels like hours. My whole body is on fire, every spot now over-sensitive. I’m gritting my teeth so hard, trying not to let out any noises of pleasure.</p><p>“You really meant it, didn’t you?” I ask. Without taking his mouth off me, he hums a quick “hm?” against my skin. “That you’re going to do this all night...” I grip the sheets at my side and writhe a little.</p><p>He looks up at me for a moment and says “if you really want me to stop, just say so and I will.” His note of humor is gone and replaced with seriousness.</p><p>“Please, don’t stop” I whine pathetically and his eyes light up again with eagerness. He’s back on my skin in seconds, not just his lips but his hands are everywhere too. He’s so warm...</p><p>“All your skin is so soft everywhere,” he says suddenly, in awe. He runs his fingers down my stomach, then back up again, exploring. His fingers are rough, probably from all the random work he does with his hands. But I don’t mind it, his calloused hands touching my sensitive skin made the feeling all that more intense.</p><p>He’s breathing so hard now that he’s practically panting. Goosebumps raise along my skin and I shudder involuntarily. Once I look down at him and see him smiling smugly that he was able to get such a reaction out of me, I decide to pay him back all his generosity from the past few hours. I tug at his hair until I’ve pulled him up to me and we’re facing each other. He lets out a small noise of surprise when I yank his head to the side and roughly kiss his exposed neck. I do everything that he’s been enjoying doing to me, only more. Once he’s squirming against me, desperate to get any friction going between our waists, I bite his neck and his hands grip my ass, grinding me forward against his hard on. “You’re the one who made the deal only kissing, are you regretting it now?” I smirk.</p><p>His eyes are mad with lust, and he just whimpers. “I...”</p><p>All of a sudden within a matter of only a few seconds, the door to the bedroom bursts open. Brahms is quick to slide off the bed and to the side but it’s already too late, Eva’s in my room and she’s seen him on top of me.</p><p>I scream out “Eva, what the hell!” But she’s not paying any attention to me at all. Her eyes are locked on to the side of the bed where Brahms disappeared to. She stomps forward, right to where he’s lying on the floor. I try to get a grasp on what’s going on, but I don’t understand. “What are you doing?” I ask, as she tries to pull him out from underneath the bed frame where he’s slid under now.</p><p>“I fucking knew it. Get out here, you coward!” She yells.</p><p>“Stop! Don’t touch him.” I stand up and try to pull her out of the room, but she’s too strong. Poor Brahms is struggling to get away from her, probably trying to get out the other side of the bed so he can at least leave the room.</p><p>“Eva don’t! What are you doing?!” I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so mad. She’s grabbing Brahms where he’s splayed out under the bed and trying to yank him out by his ankles. She grunts with all her strength and he finally slides out on his stomach. She starts pounding away with clenched fists, hitting his back. He doesn’t even try to defend himself, he just lets it happen while he continues to try and get away. I can’t watch this.</p><p>“No!” I yell at her again. None of this makes any sense. Why is she trying to hurt <em>him</em>?! I grab her arms and pull her body back onto mine with all my strength and try to hold her there. But she works out 5 times a week, and I can’t manage to hold her for long. She’s thrashing around in my arms, trying to break free.</p><p>“Anna, let me go! Why are you trying to protect him?” She turns on me, accusation in her eyes, and... hurt. “I know what’s been going on here, I’m not stupid.” What is she talking about, she knew Brahms was here with me? But why is she mad at him? If anything, she should be upset with me for not telling her the truth, this is my fault.</p><p>“Eva- please, just leave him alone. He didn’t do anything, you know he can’t fight back so just stop hitting him.” I plead with her, hoping she’ll calm down long enough to at least explain why she’s so upset.</p><p>“The hell he can’t! What? All of a sudden he’s above hitting a woman? Fight back, you coward!” She practically growls before breaking free from my arms. I’m standing there for a moment, dumbfounded. Does she think...</p><p>“Get up!” She yells at him, kicking at his legs. He finally turns on the ground and shows his face. Eva goes to lift one of her arms again to hit him, and stops completely still. I take a step forward and wrap my hand around her wrist, but she doesn’t move again.</p><p>“Wh-who are you?” She asks him, confused and completely out of breath. His eyes are wide where he lays and I go to help him up. He takes my hand and gets up off the floor, standing in front of us both now.</p><p>“This is,” I take a second and bite my lip. He looks down at me and has understanding in his eyes, no matter what I want to tell her. That’s what makes me decide to tell her the truth. “This is Brahms.”</p><p>Eva looks at my hand resting on his arm, then to his face and narrows her eyes. “Not...”</p><p>“Yes,” I cut her off before she says something insensitive, like ‘not the one who’s supposed to be dead’ or something of the sort. “In the flesh.” I give an awkward smile and wait for her to speak.</p><p>Brahms breaks the silence. “Why’d you come into <em>my</em> house and try to attack me?” He asks, understandably annoyed.</p><p>She blinks in surprise, hearing him speak. “I thought...” she takes a small step back and clears her throat before turning to just me. “On the phone, when we were talking before, all the things you said. I just assumed...”</p><p>“Assumed what?” He asks, cutting into her sentence.</p><p>“I thought you and James were back together, that he was here with you and you two were just hiding it from me.” Brahms groans loudly and throws his hands up in the air.</p><p>“Oh, of fucking course! Beaten like a dog, then called that creep’s name again. I hate the holidays!” He says, before leaving the room and stomping away, leaving us both standing there alone. I giggle. I can’t help it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say ‘fuck’ before.</p><p>“Eva,” I say, gathering her into my arms and then smoothing her out of place hair back onto her head neatly. “Why on earth would you think that?”</p><p>“It’s kind of a long story. Besides, I think whatever your story is might be more important right now.” She nods her head in the direction that Brahms walked off in.</p><p>“You first, then I’ll go.” I let out a big breath and make her sit with me on the bed while she calms down a little.</p><p>“When you FaceTimed me last, I know you didn’t realize, but your scarf slipped down from your neck and I saw...” she trails off, and my fingers go to rub at my neck, where mercifully my bruises have finally healed. The last gift James ever gave me, and of course it would cause my life this much strife. It only makes sense.</p><p>She goes on, “you were acting so weird that day, A. Going on about ‘helping someone who wouldn’t help themselves,’ yada yada. And before, mentioning that I should call to check on you in a few days just to make sure you were safe?! What the hell else would I think!” I rub my hands up and down her arm, to try and calm her down. She takes in a deep breath before going on.</p><p>“Anyways, as soon as we were done talking I went uptown, to his work. Just to see for myself that he was still in town and assuage my worst fears. And then... he really wasn’t. I didn’t want to believe my eyes so I went back the next day, and the next, and didn’t see him at all. I even risked asking his secretary where he was, and she said ‘out of the country.’ At that point, I was terrified.”</p><p>I sink into the bed further, feeling guilt overcome me. Of course James wasn’t at work, he was busy being dead. She thought he had come here and we had what, got back together? Oh, poor Eva. No wonder she flew all the way out here. With what I asked her that day she must have thought I meant I wanted to help James overcome his issues. She had no way of knowing I was talking about Brahms.</p><p>“I tried so hard to just trust you, to explain it all away on my own. I couldn’t believe that you would really take him back and be with him again, after everything. But I know how hard it is for someone to leave and actually stay away. And if you really had gotten back together, I wanted to help you. I wasn’t going to just leave you.” I place my hand on hers to remind her that I’m fine, and she gives me a small, comforted smile.</p><p>“When I got here, I actually felt relieved for a little while. I thought you really were alone and I had drummed up the whole thing in my head. But then I heard you talking to someone in your room earlier, a man’s voice. That’s when I thought maybe, he <em>was</em> here and you two were just planning on sneaking around til I left. I’m sorry I burst in like that just now, I really thought you were in here with him.”</p><p>She’s grimacing at the thought, but I pat her hand and tell her “I wouldn’t be with him Eva.” I don’t tell her that no one’s ever going to be with him again now. That might be too much for her, but I do owe her an explanation. A long overdue one. Brahms was right, I should’ve just told her in the first place. Look at all the trouble my secrecy has caused her these past few weeks, this all could’ve been avoided.</p><p>“Um, look, I know you want me to tell you everything but as far as the whole Brahms thing goes, it’s kind of hard to explain. But, I’ll try.” So I tell her the whole thing, minus the extra illegal parts. I don’t want her to be pulled into any part of that.</p><p>“But then, why’d you call me that day and say that if you didn’t get ahold of me in a few days, that I should call that number you gave and have someone come check on you?” She asks.</p><p>“Erm,” this was the part I was hoping she wouldn’t question me about. I really don’t want her to think badly of Brahms. “When I first met him, I was a little afraid of him. Understandably, considering I didn’t know he was here. Or alive. He didn’t make a very good first impression either, I wasn’t sure If I should stay here with him.” She narrows her eyes in distrust, but before she can say anything about him I go on. “But nowadays, I don’t feel that way at all. In fact, I don’t think I could leave.” I look at her face to try and see what she’s thinking.</p><p>“What about the bruises on your neck?” She asks me. “If he did-” I cut her off and finally think to myself enough is enough. I don’t want everyone to keep accusing him of the same thing. I know it hurts his feelings, even if he won’t say it.</p><p>“It... it was James, not him. I don’t want to talk about it anymore than that Eva, please.”</p><p>“He came here? How. How did he find you-” her voice rises an octave in her panic.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter, E. He found me, and that’s why I had those bruises. Him, not Brahms.” She looks at me in disbelief that that’s really all I’ll tell her.</p><p>I can tell she’s struggling to drop it. I plead with her “look, he’s gone now and he’s not coming back. And if Brahms wasn’t here when he came, then I’d be dead, okay? So that’s it.”</p><p>Her eyes widen and we sit there in silence for a minute. I hope she didn’t just connect all the dots. If she did, she doesn’t mention it.</p><p>“I don’t like this, Anna. But if he really did save your life, then I can’t help but be grateful to him. Let’s go, I want to find him and apologize.” I stand and hug her.</p><p>“Thank you. I know it’s hard to understand, but just trust me, he’s good. I’ve seen it.” She gives me a doubtful half-grin back, and we both head downstairs.</p><p>“Brahms?” He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his head down and I laugh at the sight. “Don’t sulk, she wants to say something to you.”</p><p>He looks up from his spot and Eva moves from where she was hiding behind me. “Um, I’m sorry I hit you. I really didn’t think- well, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”</p><p>He looks up at me and lets out a sigh before saying “It’s fine.” I go to stand behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. “How civil” I whisper in his ear and he cracks a smile. Funny how just the mention of James’ name can cast such a gloom on him. Him and me both.</p><p>But it’s Christmas Eve, time to cheer up! I look over at Eva’s narrowed eyes, before she schools her expression back to a neutral face. It’s probably just going to take some getting used to, I suppose. She’ll come around to him once she gets to know him, I’m sure.</p><p>I yawn and stretch out my arms. “That’s enough for one night. I’m going to bed,” I say.</p><p>Eva turns to me and asks “can’t we sleep in the same room now that I know your secret? It’ll be like when we’d spend the night at each other’s houses in high school, remember?” She asks excitedly.</p><p>I turn to look at Brahms and say “um, Brahms and I kind of sleep in the same room E.”</p><p>She turns to him and twists her face for a second, then says “Oh. Alright, I’ll see you in the morning then. Night.” She walks into her room and Brahms and I head up the stairs a moment later.</p><p>Once we’re both in bed again I turn to him in the dark. “Merry Christmas” I say, before kissing him on the cheek. He glances at the clock on the desk behind him that’s says 12:02 and turns back to me. He gently places his hand on my face and rubs small circles on my cheek with his thumb.</p><p>“Merry Christmas, Anna. Thanks for letting me stay with you tonight.” When I thought about turning him away to that cold, lonely room he used to be forced to spend so much time in, and on Christmas night? I felt ill.</p><p>“I don’t think your friend likes me very much. I didn’t expect her to, I guess.” He whispers to me in the quiet dark.</p><p>“She just doesn’t understand fully yet. She’ll see, eventually” I try to reassure him.</p><p>Why do people always look at him and see the worst? I suppose I did too, at first. But I at least had some reasoning. I wish everyone could just see what I see when I look at him. I amend my thoughts immediately, feeling jealousy at the idea that someone might see him <em>exactly </em>the same way I do. ‘Where did that thought come from?’ I wonder nervously.</p><p>I can barely make out his face in the lightless room, but some small sliver of moonlight reflecting off the snowy ground outside illuminates the room just enough for me to make out the shape of his mouth. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, remembering the feelings from earlier when his lips were all over me. If Eva hadn’t burst in and basically nulled our little deal, what would we be doing right now?</p><p>I have a sudden realization that prompts me to blurt out, without thinking, “Brahms, are you tired?”</p><p>He shakes his head no. “I was just gonna stay up and-” he stops in the middle of his sentence.</p><p>“And what, watch me sleep?” I chuckle and shake my head. “Well, I’m not tired anymore” I tell him.</p><p>“Okay, what do you want to do?” He asks me. I grin to myself, a plan forming in my head. I’m not going to let what anyone else thinks change how I feel or what I do, not <em>ever </em>again. As much as I wanted Eva to like Brahms, it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day if she does or not, because I do. I like him.</p><p>“I want to play a game, hide and seek. If you count to 100 and then catch me within 5 minutes, then you’ll win. But- if you can’t catch me, then I win. Whoever the winner ends up being gets whatever they want from the other. Deal?”</p><p>His voice is strained. “O-okay, deal.”</p><p>“Start counting,” I tell him before I shoot up off the bed and run downstairs. I do a piss poor job of hiding, but that’s sort of the point. Once I hear footsteps coming towards the small spot I hid myself in, I wriggle out and he laughs at me standing there.</p><p>“Found you,” he smiles down at me. “You could’ve given me 1 minute, instead of 5 if you were gonna lose this badly.” He says jokingly.</p><p>I smile sweetly back at him before saying “I said catch me, not find me” and I take off running. I shoot out of the front door, I’d already put my shoes on before while he was counting upstairs. He’s entirely unprepared, by the time he gets his shoes on I’ll hopefully have gained some distance. I run as fast as I’m able, all the way through the snow towards the trees. I zig-zag through the forest, running for as long as I can, trying to confuse him by having my footprints in the snow all interject.</p><p>I don’t hear a single noise before I feel arms wrap tightly around my middle. He lifts me up and we both end up landing in the snow. I laugh and turn around on his chest. “Well, you still got me. But I put up a good fight, didn’t I?” I ask.</p><p>“You’re a little cheater, that’s why.” He lets out puffs of breath from his exertion that I see in the cold night air. I pull myself up higher til our eyes meet.</p><p>“I didn’t cheat, that was called ‘strategy.’” He grimaces at me. “Well, you won. So, what will you do with me? Now that you have me.” I reply, smiling slyly down at him. He hugs me to him, so suddenly it surprises me.</p><p>“I don’t <em>really</em> have you, though.” He says so quietly against my neck I almost don’t hear. I grab his face gently and make him look at me. His eyes flash at the sudden attention on him, and I see the vulnerability in the words he’s just said. ‘He doesn’t want this to happen from a silly game,’ I realize suddenly. He wants it to be real. He <em>does</em> want his first time doing this to mean something.</p><p>My brows knit together and I admit to him “you have me more than you realize, Brahms.”</p><p>The atmosphere changes after a few seconds of complete silence. His eyes dart between looking in my eyes and at my lips. A tiny thrill shoots through my whole body. And even though I practically orchestrated this whole scenario, I now find myself just as nervous as he is. He puts a hand on the back of my head and gently pulls me down to him. I let my eyes flutter close, and feel his warm lips press tenderly to mine.</p><p>His nerves must be worse than mine though, because he goes to break the kiss after only a second, leaving it a sweet simple peck. But before he can, I instead deepen it. He lets out a noise of surprise from the back of his throat then sinks into the kiss with me. His fingers twine through my hair and I graze my tongue gently against his bottom lip before we part.</p><p>He lets out a hitch of breath. My face feels hot when I look into his eyes, pupils blown wide with passion still, and I smile. “Looks like I sort of won after all, in a way, considering I was going to ask you for the same thing if I had.”</p><p>He laughs softly at my words. “Only a real sore loser would have that sort of logic, but okay.”</p><p>“Whatever,” I grab a handful of snow from my side and throw it on him. He laughs and I roll off of him, after a few seconds he pulls me up and we walk back inside together.</p><p> </p><p>I yawn and roll over in the morning, still too tired to fully wake up. Brahms is already up though, it seems. He pulls the blanket down off of me and I open one eye to glare at him in irritation.</p><p>“You’re so annoying, Christmas morning will still be Christmas morning in a few hours.” But he doesn’t relent, he really is like a little kid sometimes. I can’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright. I’m up.”</p><p>I blink a few times and when my eyes adjust, I see he’s hiding his hands at his side. I quickly grab them into mine and gasp “what happened?” He has a bunch of bandaids all over his fingers. “Did grinch get you?” He doesn’t say anything, I just shake my head and say “the little demon” before getting up to go get dressed and ready.</p><p>I knock on Eva’s door, and walk into her room. I was going to jump onto her bed to wake her, but I see she’s already up too and on the phone. She puts up her finger and mouths ‘one sec’ before saying “alright, sounds good. Talk soon, and merry Christmas.” Then she hangs up.</p><p>“Family?” I ask, she just shakes her head, brushing me off. “Merry Christmas!” I shout, before bouncing up and down on the mattress with her. She laughs and eventually joins in. We head downstairs and I gather up grinch into my arms, who was busy attempting to eat the Christmas tree, and sit down next to Brahms. I take the cat by the scruff and dangle him in Brahms’ face before saying “apologize to your dad.”</p><p>He laughs at us both, but says “he doesn’t need to, he’s innocent.”</p><p>“You’re just covering for him because you love him” I say, and he doesn’t deny it. I sigh, it’s always the ones who didn’t want the pet in the first place who end up being the biggest softies for them.</p><p>Eva shoves a big box in front of me and I drop Grinch into Brahms’ lap. “Open, open!” She chants excitedly.</p><p>I laugh, “okay, okay.” The next few minutes are spent with me periodically opening up what can only be described as an obscene amount of gifts from Eva. After every one, I say more and more “you shouldn’t have, you spent too much money you clown. But, thank you.” Before resting my head on her shoulder.</p><p>She looks even happier than I am. “Um, E, I hate to say it but your gift is probably currently sitting on the doorstep of your apartment... I had it shipped out thinking you’d be there to get it.” I grimace.</p><p>“It’s okay, I can’t wait to see what it is though. Okay, that’s it. I have no more gifts up my sleeve.” She looks at me like a fox, and part of me feels like she’s probably got one last gift she’s waiting to give me for later.</p><p>“Okay, my turn!” I say. Brahms has been terrorizing the cat this whole time, which incidentally grinch seems to love, as he’s currently purring while batting at his legs.</p><p>“Here, Brahms” I say with a grin. I hope he likes it, he mentioned something to me about a week ago that made me think to get this for him while Madi and I were out shopping.</p><p>He tears it open in a frenzy, and I tell him “they’re all my favorite books. I don’t think you have most of them considering over half of them aren’t a century old.” He’s smiling, he opens one of the books and sees all the little notes I stuck in them.</p><p>“Um, I annotated them with all my favorite parts and stuff, since I know you love to pick my brain and all.” That’s what the real gift seems to be, looking at him now.</p><p>He grabs my face in his hand and kisses the top of my head. “I love it. Can we read them together?”</p><p>“Oh uh, sure. If you’d like.”</p><p>“Thank you. Okay, now me.” I blink a couple of times in surprise.</p><p>“Did you go out shopping one night without me knowing?” I jokingly ask him, when he brings out two presents and sits them in front of me.</p><p>“Ha ha, no I did not. Here, open this one first.” I do my best to not smirk at his wrapping job. I don’t think he’s ever had any reason to wrap a gift before, but that only makes it more endearing to me.</p><p>I open up the first gift and realize what he meant. It’s a sweater that he must have made for me himself. “I love it!” I give a cheeky grin and put it on right away. It’s cozy and warm.</p><p>“You know, since you’re always so cold and all” he says, fidgeting with his hands. He hands me the last gift before I can even thank him for the first, I eye him before tearing it open and see...</p><p>“How?” I ask, my throat feeling tight. “How did you do it? It was practically pulverized... I don’t understand.”</p><p>It’s the mug Brandon made for me, only it’s not broken anymore. He somehow managed to painstakingly piece it all back together, almost perfectly. I can’t even imagine the craftsmanship it must’ve taken to do this.</p><p>I hold it up and then glance down at his hands again, he has so many little cuts all over his fingers. He raises one of his hands and wipes at my cheek, “don’t cry.” Was I? I didn’t even realize til he said something.</p><p>Eva clears her throat and says “that was nice” before getting up to go make some coffee. I just sit there, looking at it. ‘World’s most annoying sister.’</p><p>“He made it at school for me and brought it home one day, when I opened it and saw what it said he laughed so hard he cried. He thought it was hilarious. I just told him I’d take it as a challenge though, and work even harder to annoy him. That’s when he stopped laughing” I tell him with a small smile. I run my fingers along the words, I never thought I’d see it again. No wonder Brahms was up so early, he probably never even went to bed. It had to have taken all night to put back together.</p><p>I lean over and kiss him on the mouth, he looks surprised when I pull back. “Thank you, it’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” He smiles and inches his hand out a little towards mine. But before I can take it, Eva walks back in the room with a cup of coffee for me as well as herself. She hands it to me and I take it gratefully.</p><p>“Want to try some of mine?” I ask him, knowing he must be tired. He takes a small sip, and then cringes a little. “Bitter...” he tells me, and I laugh. “You have the palette of a child.”</p><p>We spend the rest of the day just eating and lazing around. Much to my disappointment, Eva and Brahms don’t directly interact much, but I try not to push it. We’re all currently in the living room together and Brahms and I are sitting on the piano bench, messing around.</p><p>“Can you play at all?” I ask him.</p><p>“Just a little,” he says, before tracing his long fingers over the keys. “Kind of hurts right now, though.” He admits, wiggling his bandaged fingers at me.</p><p>I start to play instead, and he scoots closer to me. He leans in close enough to brush my ear with his lips. “I can’t play at all like that, though” he compliments me and I shove him playfully.</p><p>I look back to the couch where Eva’s sitting, she’s watching us with a strange look on her face. ‘She hasn’t heard me play in years,’ I remembered. That must be why.</p><p>That night, I decide to wait for Eva on her bed. She’s been outside for the last half hour, smoking and talking to her sisters on the phone. Once she walks in and sees me she smiles, probably not expecting me.</p><p>“This is a surprise, I figured you’d gone to bed.” She says, sitting up close to me on the mattress.</p><p>“I just want to say how glad I am that you’re here, and how much I missed spending time with you.” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her warm frame. It can’t be easy, I realized earlier. Her coming all the way out here to spend time with me, then having to now split that time between herself and another person that she didn’t even know existed. Especially after we’ve already lost so much time together already, the last years.</p><p>“Really?” She asks, emotion leaking into her voice.</p><p>“Mhm. Of course, you dummy. I can’t tell you how many holidays passed the last few years where all I thought about was picking up the phone and calling you,” I admit.</p><p>“Me too” she says, choking up. I grab her face in my hands and see she’s really started crying. She almost never cries, not even in front of me. “Oh Anna, come back with me. Please. I can get on my phone right now and buy your return ticket with mine! It can be my last Christmas gift to you,” Is that what she had in mind earlier?</p><p>“Eva, I can’t...” I start to say, but she stops me, grabbing me and making me look at her dead in the face.</p><p>“But why? You said it yourself, James isn’t coming back. Why do you have to stay here, Anna? In some self-imposed exile!” I don’t dare roll my eyes, not when she’s this serious. But I wouldn’t go that far, to call living here being in ‘exile.’ “Is it the pay? Because you can live with me, I’ll cover the rent and bills. Just while you figure things out and-”</p><p>I cut her off. “It’s not the money. I already told you, I can’t explain why. Look E, let’s not waste our time together arguing. You’re not going to change my mind, and I don’t want to see you cry.” I smooth her cheek.</p><p>“How can I not? You should be home, Anna. Around people who love you. How am I not going to be upset when you won’t explain why you can’t just come back home with me. Do you know how it feels being a whole continent away from you constantly? And I know you say he’s nothing to worry about, but-”</p><p>“Look,” I cut her off before she says something bad about Brahms. “I know it’s hard to understand but I just need you to trust me, I have everything under control.”</p><p>She looks at me, a strange expression coming over her. “What did you say?” She asks, blinking before her eyes narrow in confusion.</p><p>Before I can answer her again, she scoots closer to me and hastily says “I love you.” She sniffles and tightens her hands on mine, looking desperate all of a sudden.</p><p>“I know. I love you too, you’re my best friend.” I reassure her.</p><p>She closes her eyes at my words and nods slowly, before looking down at the floor.</p><p>“Goodnight, Anna. Merry Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>-–—</p><p> </p><p>Anna walks into the bedroom looking disheartened. “Did you and your friend fight?” I ask. “I thought I might have heard...”</p><p>“It was nothing.” She tells me, sounding clipped. Didn’t sound like nothing, the walls are so thin that I could hear every word they spoke. I let it go, though. I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, not with me. I knew her friend didn’t like me, I could just tell. She’s been looking at me strangely all day.</p><p>And worst of all, I’m pretty sure she just tried to tell Anna that she loved her. And not in whatever platonic way Anna took it as, either. I’d like to think I’ve watched enough romance movies to at least hear the difference. But, maybe I’m just being overly jealous again and it’s clouding my judgement. That’s probably it.</p><p>I completely lose my train of thought when I see what Anna’s wearing to bed, though. “Won’t you be cold?” I ask quietly. She’s got the sweater I made for her on, but as far as I can see, has nothing on beneath. Nothing more than underwear, anyway. Her bare legs lightly brush my hand under the covers as she gets in.</p><p>“That’s what you’re here for. I’ll just have to keep close to you if I start to feel cold, won’t I?” I can barely speak, I just hum an assent.</p><p>“Um... in a couple months, when the weather starts to get warm again, will you not want to sleep in the same bed anymore?” I ask reluctantly. I wait with bated breath every night as it is, just waiting to see if it will finally be the night that she kicks me out, but she never does.</p><p>“Of course not, then I’ll have to use my body to cool down your extraordinarily high temperature. It’s only fair” she says, taking in a deep breath and suddenly shifting up to sit cross legged next to me. I see the look on her face and I audibly groan.</p><p>“Not tonight, can’t we skip it?” I beg.</p><p>“It’s just one question, don’t act like I’m torturing you!” She replies.</p><p>No, just trying to trap me in a trick question of some variety. It’s my fault in the first place for asking her to stay here under the guise of helping me learn what it means to be more of a ‘well-adjusted person.’ An idiotic request, which I have since regretted. Because ever since the day that she came back, she’s taken it more literally than I ever intended and has been terrorizing me with what I’ve been deeming in my head as ‘humanity lessons.’ She more generously refers to them as ‘morality questions’ though.</p><p>“Alright, go ahead” I wave my hand at her in acquiescence.</p><p>“Okay, let’s see” she taps her chin “what would you do if burglars broke into the house?”</p><p>“I’d kill them, of course.” She flops down onto the bed and says “no, Brahms” into the muffled pillow.</p><p>“What else am I supposed to do?! It’s not like I can just call the police!” I reply, irritated that I always seem to answer wrong.</p><p>She peaks up at me. “Well, I’d be here of course. I’d call them...”</p><p>I look at her then, deadly serious and say “if you were here when people broke in, then I’d definitely kill them.”</p><p>She groans. “Brahms, people only steal as a last resort. Don’t you wonder what would have to happen in someone’s life to lead them to be a thief? Don’t you have any empathy for them,” I start to shake my head ‘no’ but she scrunches her face in a scowl at me and I get too scared to.</p><p>“How can I feel bad for someone I’ve never even met? I don’t get it.” She looks at me like I just said something awful, and I look away, unable to stand it.</p><p>“Maybe you’re right, we should’ve skipped it tonight.” She tells me with a displeased frown.</p><p>I take in a breath and say “wait. I promise if anyone ever breaks in, to not kill them. Only incapacitate them, I guess.” She looks at me again and her lip twitches before she gives in and starts to laugh.</p><p>“I guess that’s all I’ll get from you for now. One of these days though, you’re going to surprise me with one of your answers.” I doubted that very much. Unless I decide to just start lying, which I don’t want to do, so.</p><p>I clear my throat when she shifts to lay under the covers with me and I turn the other way. “You look really pretty” I sigh, trying to sound unaffected, but clearly failing.</p><p>She pulls at my shoulders. “Do you want me to put pants on, you dork?”</p><p>“No, that’s not why. I just... like seeing you wearing something I made for you, that’s all.” She rests her chin on my shoulder and makes me turn to look at her.</p><p>“So, did you like it? Our first holiday together,” my heart clenches.</p><p>“Will there be more?” I ask, trying not to sound so panicked.</p><p>“So you did hear us,” she says in an exhale.</p><p>“I wasn’t trying to, I swear.” I’d rather I hadn’t overheard actually, for once. I didn’t know that I cared if her friend would like me or not, until I found out she didn’t.</p><p>“Then you heard me tell her I’m not going back with her. I’m exactly where I want to be.” She leans over my body to turn the lamp off and instead of going to her side of the bed, she just rests her head down on my chest and mumbles “night” but I don’t feel like I can sleep now.</p><p>Once she’s asleep I stare at her for awhile and remember all the words we exchanged throughout the day, all the little moments I filed away to come back to in the night.</p><p>I hold her head gently in between my hands while I look at her peaceful face, all her features completely relaxed and mouth slightly parted. I feel my lungs inflate with as much oxygen as I can get, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. I have an enormous weight on my chest throughout the day and the only time it ever goes away are the moments when she looks at me. I never could’ve known that feeling existed, the way I was living before.</p><p>“I love you so much it hurts” I murmur so softly, the words escaped my lips without me ever deciding to speak them. “But I suppose there’s nothing that can be done for it, so...” I lightly kiss the tip of her nose and she shifts slightly, then goes back to a state of complete stillness.</p><p> </p><p>For once, Anna is the one to get up before I am. Staying up half the night the past few days to finish making her presents must have finally taken it’s toll on me. I wake up to her holding one of my hands in hers, playing with my fingers with a slight downturn of her lips.</p><p>“Um, morning” I say to her.</p><p>“More like ‘afternoon,’” she smirks before asking “does it hurt?” I shake my head ‘no’ even though it does still sting a lot. She takes my hand and kisses the fingers gently.</p><p>I push up off the bed and look at the time. “Charlie will be here in a couple of hours. I wish you could come meet my uncle and aunt too. They’re like if my parents had been nice, you’d like them.”</p><p>She chuckles and says “I’m sure I would. And I’ll meet them, eventually. But I think I should spend today with Eva, just the two of us. I think it might actually help, if we get some time alone to talk. Then she’ll be able to see how happy I am.” I smile at her a little.</p><p>“I’m gonna go take a shower,” she tells me. “Do... do you want me to wash your hair for you?” I look at her, perplexed. She looks casual, the way she’s standing and waiting for me to respond, but I can see the small flush creeping into her cheeks. “I mean, your hands. They’re hurt so... look, if you don’t need my help then just forget I asked.” She starts to sound defensive, the longer I don’t answer her.</p><p>“No, wait! I lied. It does hurt, really badly. I want your help.”</p><p>She laughs and says “alright then, come on dope.”</p><p>She turns the shower on so hot that the room fills with steam in less than a minute. ‘As If I needed it to be any harder to breathe as it is’ I think to myself.</p><p>“Just get in with me after a few minutes, unless you’re too shy to” she teases me. She starts to lift her sweater off her torso and I avert my eyes. She must see me do it too, because I hear her laugh lightly and when I go to look again, she’s already behind the shower curtain.</p><p>After a few minutes, just like she tells me I get in with her. I feel her wet hand hit me playfully. “What are you doing, you idiot! You can’t keep your eyes closed while getting into a shower, you’re lucky you didn’t fall.” I just nod my head at her, only sure where she exactly is by the sound of her voice.</p><p>“Are you going to stay like this the whole time?” She asks me, sounding amused.</p><p>“I probably should,” I tell her. Obviously I’m not very good at self control, and I surely wouldn’t be able to keep control of my own physical reactions if I do open my eyes.</p><p>“Jeez, Brahms. Are you so self conscious that you’ve managed to convince yourself that I don’t want you to see me naked even though I was the one who invited you in here with me?” I open my eyes then and just try and look forward at the tiles behind her, my mouth set in a straight line. As long as I don’t look down, I’ll be fine.</p><p>Finally, she places her hands on either side of my face and forces me to look at her. The beads of water all over her wet skin, her body all soapy and her nipples hard from being faced away from the warm water, it’s all too much. I intake a small, steadying breath and look back up after only half a second. “You know,” I start to say “I feel things like ‘want’ and ‘need’ <em>way</em> more intensely than other people do. To an impossible degree, so...” I try to warn her. It’s not like I don’t want to do small, simple intimate things like this. And do them normally, without ruining it by basically being depraved. I don’t want to be this affected by her all the time, it’s humiliating.</p><p>She just quirks her head to the side, confused as to why I’m telling her this. Then after a moment, she finally goes “oh. I see,” Whatever my face looks like, she’s clearly understood now why I refuse to look at her. “So,” she trails her finger down my chest “you <em>don’t</em> want to get hard, huh? Okay then.” She takes the soap and lathers up her body more, her hands lingering over her breasts. And then, if that wasn’t enough she hugs her body to mine, sliding up me a little until she’s standing on her tiptoes. I can feel all of her slippery, wet body pressed tightly against mine and I let out a shuddering breath.</p><p>She presses even tighter to me and smiles. “See?” She says “Who cares. You’re too nervous for your own good, Brahms. I’ll have to give you immersion therapy.”</p><p>I gulp. “What’s that?”</p><p>“It’s when the thing you’re afraid of, you become over exposed to until it becomes not as big of a deal. And you’re definitely too inhibited about stuff like this, so what else can I do but help you in this way?”</p><p>“I-I’m not afraid,” I start to say.</p><p>“Say that again, without the stutter” she jokes, and I just stay quiet for the sake of my own dignity.</p><p>She finally lathers the shampoo up in her palms and reaches up to my head. I make it easier for her by leaning down onto her shoulder. I let the warm water hit my face and groan into her wet skin, I can feel her shudder now.</p><p>“Does it feel good?” She asks, while working the shampoo through my hair. I just nod my head where it rests on her. I turn to face into the crook of her neck, and press my lips onto the wet skin there. Gentle at first, then more forceful before I finally let my teeth graze her softly. “Ah-” She grips onto my forearms tightly, digging into my skin and pulls me even closer to her, before suddenly releasing me. “Okay, you can do the rest yourself” she says before hastily hopping out of the shower, leaving me to rinse my hair on my own while I try and calm down. ‘Hm,’ I look down at my arms and lightly trace the skin. ‘She left her nail marks on me.’ I don’t know why I like that so much. I quickly rinse my hair clean before slamming the faucet to the coldest setting.</p><p>Once we’re both out, she towel dries my hair for me and we eventually head downstairs. I could swear that when her friend sees both of our hair wet, she clicks her teeth in disgust. Maybe I’m imagining things though.</p><p>“Charlie said he’ll be here in a few minutes,” I say, hanging up the phone from his call.</p><p>“Brahms, let me go out for a second first when he gets here. I want to give him his Christmas gift.” I nod my head and try not to smile, knowing what it is she got him after she explained it to me when I saw her wrapping it.</p><p>“Well, looks like it’ll be just you and me all day, A. What do you want to do?” Eva says to her, sounding satisfied.</p><p>“Um, well do you wanna go out somewhere or stay in? It’s probably pretty busy at some of the shops, day after Christmas and all.” She puts her finger to her chin.</p><p>Her friend says “let’s just stay in, then. We can cuddle up on the couch and have a movie day or something. We haven’t done that in awhile.”</p><p>Anna grins and says “ok!” excitedly.</p><p>I watch the two of them, and even though I can’t help the small pang of envy I feel right at the moment, I am glad to see how happy she is with her friend here. Anna catches me watching the both of them and raises her eyebrow in question at me. I just try and make myself smile, and she smirks back before continuing talking with Eva.</p><p>“I hear Charlie pulling up,” I tell her. “Oh,” she shoots up out of her chair and says she’ll “just be a few minutes.”</p><p>Once she’s out of the door, it’s just her friend and I sitting together in awkward silence. What makes it worse, is that her friend is staring at me in a disapproving way. ‘Make a good impression, be polite and talk to people about themselves.’ That’s what Anna would want me to do.</p><p>“So uh, how long will you be in town for?” I ask, feeling ill equipped at the whole concept of having a casual conversation, but still trying. I don’t know if it’s working though, and she’s not making it any easier on me by how long she’s taking to answer.</p><p>“Why? Anxious for me to leave” she asks, her tone light, in direct comparison to her words. She takes a sip of her drink and I furrow my brows, feeling confused.</p><p>“Um no, that’s not what I meant. It doesn’t matter to me how long you stay.” Am I doing this wrong? I don’t understand what I said that she already could’ve taken the wrong way.</p><p>“Oh, really? Is that why every single time Anna even so much as speaks to me, I look over and see you practically frothing at the mouth with jealousy.”</p><p>“What?” I ask, taken aback. “That’s not true. I’m sorry, I’m not good at being around people yet...” I try to explain.</p><p>This is going horribly. I wanted to change her mind about me but it’s not happening right at all. It doesn’t help that I have Anna’s voice in my head right now, repeating ‘be polite, be nice’ over and over again. I’m trying.</p><p>Her friend glances behind me to the outside, where Anna is still talking to Charlie and her voice changes from the nice, casual tone and drops as she says “you think I don’t see how you look at her, you freak? Anna’s staying here with you to be nice. Because she’s a good person, and you’re twisting it in your mind and trying to take advantage of her.”</p><p>I feel my body start to shake slightly, and I start to hear that ringing noise in my ears again. I shake my head to focus. “No I’m not...”</p><p>“Don’t lie. You think I can’t tell? I’ve seen that look before, you know. It’s the same way James acted around her when she was with her friends. I didn’t catch it in time then, but I know better now. You’re a fucking <em>creep.</em> And if you think I’m going to let the same thing happen to my friend again as before, you’re wrong.”</p><p>My whole body is shaking now with anger and indignation. I’m not like him, I’m not.</p><p>“You’re one to talk,” I say, venom in my voice. “The only reason you recognized how <em>I</em> look at her, is because your busy looking at her in the exact same way.” I tried not to notice, to just brush it off, but she looks at Anna the same way that I do. The only one who doesn’t see it, is probably Anna. If there’s one thing I can pick up on, it’s pining.</p><p>Her voice is deadly quiet when she asks me “what’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“I think you and I both know exactly what I meant,” I spit.</p><p>Her mouth twists in disbelief, my words must have landed then. So it is true. She loudly pushes back from her chair and abruptly stands.</p><p>“Anna will never, and I mean <em>never</em> let another man get in between us again, not after James. So even if what you’re saying was true, it doesn’t matter. She’ll never take your side over mine.”</p><p>I sit in the chair in silence, my whole body feels cold. ‘She’s right,’ I realize. Anna and her have been friends for years. Even if I said something to her about her friend, she’ll only assume <em>I’m </em>the one being paranoid and possessive.</p><p>“Even so, it’s not like you can get her to leave. I haven’t done anything wrong, she’s not just going to abandon me.” My words were meant to come out with some sort of conviction, instead they just come out sounding pathetic.</p><p>She snickers. “We’ll see.” She says, smiling at me before Anna and Charlie walk back in together, laughing.</p><p>“Alright man, time to hit the road. Nice to meet you by the way, I’m Charles.”</p><p>Eva shakes his hand and says, with all niceness back in her voice “Hi. I’m Eva, Anna’s friend. Hope you two have fun today.” She says, looking from him to me.</p><p>I look up at Anna, but she’s already being grabbed by her friend around her waist and pulled to her side.</p><p>“Thanks,” Charlie says “alright, see you guys later. Come on, Brahms.” He pulls me up out of my chair, I stand and pause for a moment, wanting Anna to come and hug me goodbye. But her friend is whispering something into her ear, and she starts giggling.</p><p>Charlie walks out the door and before I turn to leave, Eva pulls Anna into her embrace. I can’t see her face anymore, but I see her friend’s. She rests her cheek into Anna’s hair and gives me the worst smile I’ve ever seen, before rubbing her hand along Anna’s back. She tightens her hold and nuzzles even closer into her before waving ‘bye’ to me.</p><p>I bite down on my own lip so hard I draw blood, before turning to leave. The last thing I hear is the both of them talking and laughing together about what a fun day they’re going to have.</p><p> </p><p>-–– Christmas morning, Eva’s POV</p><p> </p><p>I roll over in my bed and wince at the light suddenly streaming through the cracks in the blinds. ‘Morning already,’ I think. I’ve barely slept a wink, and I have a huge headache still from the jet lag. I stretch my limbs out, then lay there like a zombie, just staring at the ceiling with a pit in my stomach. I think back to a few days ago, how I thought I was coming out here on some rescue mission, to Anna who so obviously must need me. What a joke. Now look at me, how out of place I feel in this strange unprecedented situation I’ve found myself in. I think even farther back, to what landed me here in this fucked up spot in the first place.</p><p>It was a few days after I got that call from Anna. I’d just fully realized that James wasn’t in town, and my mind was whirling a million miles a minute. I suddenly remembered the number Anna gave me a few days prior, to call in case I didn’t hear from her and have someone check on her. She’d already nixed the whole idea, claiming she was fine after all, but was she really? I thought it over and over in my mind all day and ended up calling that night.</p><p>“Yes, hello?” A man answered.</p><p>“Um, hi. Who is this?” I ask, feeling at a loss for what to even say.</p><p>“You called me” the man replies, already sounding a tad annoyed.</p><p>“Yeah well, I got your number from a friend of mine. Anna. Do you know her?”</p><p>“Yes... why did she want you to call me though? Is she okay-” he asks, all trace of annoyance gone, he now seems to care about what I have to say. Yep, my Anna will have that effect on people.</p><p>“That’s just the thing, I’m not sure if she is.” I go into the whole reason she gave me his number to begin with, that a few days ago she called me and told me if I suddenly didn’t hear from her, that I needed to call him and see if he’d go by the house just to check on her, but that she wouldn’t give a reason why. He curses into the receiver.</p><p>“What?” I ask.</p><p>“Perfectly safe, my arse.” He mutters, and I feel myself go cold.</p><p>“Tell me,” I beg. He might know more than me, it seems.</p><p>“You said Anna’s your friend, right?” I tell him yes, best friend in fact. “Then, get her to leave that place. Find some way and get her to go back home to America. She’s not safe in that house, just as I thought.” I plead for him to tell me more but he just repeats that he can’t, and eventually we hang up. I booked my ticket that night.</p><p>I watch the sun leak in and glow on the walls, lying there now I can’t help but wonder what he could have meant. The man, Malcolm was his name I think. What did he seem to know? It obviously wasn’t James here with her, so why was he so convinced Anna needed help?</p><p>I shouldn’t... I really shouldn’t, it’s Christmas morning after all. People aren’t too keen being bothered by practical strangers on this day, but I bite my lip and pick up my phone anyways. I have to know what he meant.</p><p>He surprisingly enough, picks up my call after only a few rings. “Yes?” He asks.</p><p>“It’s me, Eva. From before. I’m sorry I’m calling today, but I just had to.”</p><p>“It’s fine, my families not up yet. What do you need?”</p><p>“I need to know what you meant that day, on our call. Obviously I’m in town, currently. And I don’t know how much you know but-”</p><p>He cuts me off and sighs “I’m assuming if you’re even calling to ask, that getting Anna to agree to leave didn’t go over well.” He sounds perturbed. But why?</p><p>“I haven’t really gotten that far yet, it’s to be determined still. Probably by this very call, actually. Look, no more games. I need you to just come right out and say it, why did you say Anna wasn’t safe here?” I ask him.</p><p>I wait a few breaths before asking “was it because of him?” More silence.</p><p>Then finally, “you know he’s there, then.” He was the one I wasn’t sure knew, but evidently we’re both up to speed.</p><p>“So, he is who you meant. But, why exactly? I know the whole thing is weird, and I can’t lie and say I don’t wish my friend wasn’t caught up in something like this,” something that <em>I</em> got her caught up in... I’m the one who got her the job here, and look how it’s all turned out.</p><p>“I’m sure he seems harmless to you, but you don’t know everything. I’ve lived in this town my whole life. Every single ‘nanny-’” he twists the word in his mouth to show his clear disdain “-who was in that house before Anna, left. And do you know why?”</p><p>“Tell me,” I breathe out.</p><p>“Most of them left rather abruptly because they were hurt in that house. And none of us in the town believed them when they tried to explain what happened, the one’s who did just thought it must be haunted.” He chuckles darkly. “But, as I’m sure you can guess, it was just him the whole time. The one before Anna was pushed down the stairs before she finally left. So if you think you’re friend is safe there, then I don’t know what to tell you.”</p><p>“Does Anna know?” I ask, disturbed.</p><p>“I think my sister told her. Look, I don’t know what hold that man has over her, but your friend is too nice for her own good and it’s going to end up getting her hurt.” I can tell by the sound of his voice that he truly does care.</p><p>“I mean, I don’t disagree but what can I do? You said it yourself, she is too nice. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say at this point.”</p><p>“You have to try,” he says “and if words don’t convince her, then...”</p><p>“Then what?” I ask, desperate for any help. I know deep down, if he saved her life like she said, she’ll be too loyal to him to just leave from something I say. It won’t be enough.</p><p>“Anna doesn’t know that you now know what Brahms did to those women before. If she were to think he pushed you down the stairs, would she really be so willing to forgive him then?”</p><p>I sit at the end of my bed in shock. “I can’t do that, that’s horrible.” I hear my own heart pounding in my ears while I wait for him to say something.</p><p>“Means to an end, I suppose. What’s more important to you- doing what’s right, or your friend? All I’m saying is, men who are violent against women don’t just wake up one day ‘changed.’ I know that much. If he hurt them, he’d hurt her. If he hasn’t already, that is.” I hear a knock on the bedroom door and jump out of my skin. As Anna walks in, I quickly say into the receiver “alright, sounds good. Talk soon, and merry Christmas.”</p><p>“Merry Christmas, and good luck” he says, and I hang up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>All day I’ve watched with a keen eye, both of them interacting with each other. The more I see, the worse I feel about how it might go tonight when I ask Anna to come home and live with me. One thing is definitely clear though, there’s something not right about the way he acts around her. She can’t get up and leave the room for even a second without him following her like a lost puppy. It’s strange, and wrong. And the way he looks at her, it reminds me so much of how James used to look at her... it makes my skin crawl.</p><p>I can’t help but remember what Malcolm told me earlier on the phone. ‘He’s hurt girls before,’ I think. ‘what’s to stop him from hurting my Anna if she ever does something he doesn’t like?’ I wonder at them both now. Even though he’s clearly more attached than she is, she does seem to somewhat have a bond with him. I just don’t understand it.</p><p>She <em>was</em> scared of him though, at one point. A few weeks ago she was so afraid of him that she had fail safes set in place, just in case he did something to her at the house. So what changed from then?</p><p>I hate to think, but it could’ve been my advice that changed Anna’s outlook on the situation completely. God, this is unbearable. I don’t want to have to lie to her to get her to leave. I don’t want to have to lie to her ever, at all. It doesn’t feel right.</p><p>But... all those years apart from her didn’t feel right, either. I remember back to the day that mine and Anna’s friendship ended, the last day I saw her before years of no contact at all.</p><p>We were at some fancy restaurant all together. James and her, and a bunch of our friends. And I made a snide remark to her in passing about him being rude to the waiter. He must have overheard because when I excused myself for a moment and left, he followed me out.</p><p>“You know,” he says from behind me, and I almost jump out of my skin, not expecting to have had any company. “You really ought to be careful what you say about me around Anna, because she can pick up on the fact that you’re only jealous. It’s sad, really.”</p><p>I scoff and don’t even bother looking at him, with my back to him I just simply retort “what do I have to be jealous about? She’s been my friend for way longer than she’s known you, and we’ll be friends long after you’re out of the picture.”</p><p>Something about what I’ve just said seems to set him off. “She’s <em>mine</em>.” He practically growls out of nowhere, sounding possessed all of a sudden. I finally turn around and take a small step back when I see his face, not even consciously meaning to. I don’t want him to know I’m afraid of him, I can’t back down.</p><p>“Maybe for now, but not forever” I tell him with a stony demeanor, finally seeing him for the toxic obsessed monster he’s always been.</p><p>For a moment, I can see the blow has landed, but he quickly regains his cold look and gets the upper hand back. “Hm. Maybe, maybe not. But I do know one thing for sure, she’ll never be yours. At least, not in the way you want.”</p><p>I freeze. I feel like I’ve had the wind knocked from me. He finally walks away, with an evil satisfied smirk. Back into the room, with her laughing and latching closely onto his side for the rest of the night. I’m left standing outside, alone, away from the others.</p><p>At the end of the night, I see Anna about to leave with him in a cab when she spots me. She tells him to wait for a second and walks over to me. “I’ve barely seen you all night! What have you been up to?” She asks.</p><p>“You haven’t just barely seen me all night, you’ve barely seen me at all in the past year.” I remark coldly, she takes a step forward and says my name, surprised and hurt. “What the hell are you doing with him, Anna?” I ask. “He’s terrible.” She looks at me, taken aback.</p><p>“What do you mean?” She says.</p><p>“What do I mean?! He spent half of the night giving the waiter a death glare just because he dared to smile at you a little too long for his liking, don’t you think it was a bit much? And then, when the poor guy almost fell with the drinks, I look down and see that James had stuck his foot out for him to trip over. He’s possessive to a scary degree, how can you date a guy like that?” I ask, genuinely confused and hurt.</p><p>“He’s not always like that, you don’t see the other side of him. There are reasons he acts that way, his father was horrible-”</p><p>“Oh, bullshit!” I yell. “Those are just excuses.” We both jump when we hear a loud noise from someone pounding on their horn. I look behind her and see that James has gotten the cab driver to honk and let Anna know that it’s time to leave.</p><p>“Anna, he’s not a good guy.” My voice breaks. Why can’t she see it? ‘Why didn’t I?’ I wonder, knowing that it took even me years to see what he truly is. And all that time, he was busy sinking his claws deeper and deeper into her. Now, I can’t even reach her. She’s standing right in front of me, but all she’s thinking about is getting in that cab, with him.</p><p>“He’s trying to make you leave me, even now. He won’t give us even a few minutes alone to talk, he wants to take you away from- from all your friends,” I almost said ‘from me’ but stopped myself.</p><p>“He is not, Eva.” She scoffs. She looks nervously back at him in the cab, before turning to say one final thing to me. The last thing she’d say to me, for years.</p><p>“Just trust me, okay? I have everything under control.” I nod at her weakly, feeling so helpless as I watch her walk away from me and get into a car with him.</p><p>I flash back to the present with the sound of piano keys being played. ‘Since when did she start playing again?’ I wonder. I look and see Anna and Brahms both sitting at the piano together and laughing. He leans down into her ear and whispers something that makes her ears go red.</p><p>‘She’ll never be yours’ the voice is the twisted sound of a monster playing in my head, over and over. I grit my teeth and my eye twitches. I look away from them, not able to stand it any longer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PLEASE everyone just collectively pretend it didn’t take me 3 months to write this. Thanks all🙏</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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